Houses Competition, AU piece.

Ravenclaw, HoH, Short, Prompt: First line (He had missed the last train and there was only one person he could think to talk to at three in the morning, too bad they broke up last week.), WC: 648

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He had missed the last train and there was only one person he could think to talk to at three in the morning, too bad they broke up last week. It would be awkward now, regardless of what time he was calling.

"Hello? Ron?" she picked up immediately, tired voice humming monotonously into the speaker. "Is everything okay? It's.. Shit, 3am."

"Or late," Ron disputed, smiling in spite of himself. He couldn't help it, because Jesus if he wasn't still totally in love with Hermione Granger then he didn't know anything. She was gorgeous, and smart, and utterly ridiculous. And she was sighing on the other end of the phone. "I missed the last train back."

"Can you get a taxi?"

"Hermione, there's no one around. Not even a mouse." She shuffled up in bed; he could hear by the rustling of sheets. But there someone else was with her. There was talking. "I know we broke up last week, and I know I hurt you."

"Ron, what do you want?"

"I haven't got anyone else."

Ron glanced around the empty station. There was one other man, dressed in the fluorescent orange jacket of the security guards overnight uniform. Lights flickered above, casting the dramatic shadows over metallic benches and closed-up kiosk stands. He imagined Hermione, resting in the dark room they used to share, bleary-eyed and trying desperately to think, even though her mind must have been worn-out from sleep.

"Where are you?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

"The station," he answered, rubbing a hand over his face. This was embarrassing, but he wouldn't dare to explain to his brothers, who lived too far away in London. And Ginny was asleep with her children – there was no way he could disturb her. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"I'm on my way." He could tell she was frustrated, and perhaps too tired to drive. Guilt rested in him, churning his stomach. He felt sick. But he needed to see her, and perhaps that was why he had tried her first rather than any taxi company he knew of. It wasn't like he expected anything to come from the drive home, but there was always the sliver of a chance.

She was running towards, him, hair bundled back, wearing jogging bottoms and a loose jacket that had been her father's. It was flapping around her hips as she ran, then jogged, then walked in his direction. Ron was somewhere between bemused and hopeful. "The car's waiting," she was saying, tugging on his arm. Did she leave the engine running or something? She was smelling him for alcohol and worse, dragging him with her. Then she was opening the backseat door of her tiny car. Why can't I sit in the front?

"Alright there, little brother?" said a loud voice from the front seat. Ron hummed loudly in confusion, having trouble doing his seatbelt up. "Aw Hermione, no, don't help him!" Fred Weasley laughed brightly, watching Hermione buckle Ron in and close the door before stepping into the passenger seat.

"Wha -?" The words didn't seem to come out as Ron intended. Why are you here? What are you doing? Why isn't Hermione driving? Why are you here?

"Hermione had a couple glasses of wine so we decided it would be better for me to drive her out here to get you," Fred explained. From his seat, Ron could see she was smiling at her brother, more sweetly than she had ever smiled at him or anyone else before. "Odd, but it makes sense. Right?" Fred laughed and Ron felt sick.

"Is this why then?" he asked, placing a hand on Hermione's head rest to keep him steady. "My brother…? He's why you broke up with me?"

"Ron…" Hermione began slowly, and he knew it must be the truth. "Fred, look out!"

A pair of great, glowing yellow lights were careening towards them.

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Thanks for reading!