Watercooler High

"So the Magpies are the front runners for the League Cup this year," Harry began, eyeing the blue, white, and red envelope that sat on top of Ron's mail, the golden bomb seal still untouched.

"Mmm-mm," Ron mumbled, scribbling vigorously between two neat stacks of the Prophet's old issues.

"And you are, of course, coming with me to the game tomorrow," Harry continued to bait.

"Mmm-mm…"

"Ron?" Harry sighed, leaning on his elbow, deciding to peer at his git of a friend until he got his attention.

"I can feel those irritating green eyeballs burning a hole into my skull," Ron said in a sing-song voice after a moment of annoyed silence.

"Mmm-mm," Harry mimicked his earlier reply, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine," Ron huffed, throwing his head back and reaching for the envelope, "You are aware that I sent that request to meet the Bombers' captain a month ago and that the answer could be a big fat 'no'?"

"Sent in such a lovely envelope?"

Ron tore the seal in front of Harry, then purposefully hid the envelope under his desk so Harry couldn't see it's contents.

"Bigonville Bombers? More like Be-gone-vile-bombers," Harry snorted, looking back down at his work, pretending to go through a collage of moving photographs on his desk.

"Mate… Every time you make a pun like that, a little piece of my zany Weasley heart just shrivels up and dies from cringe," Ron replied, faking a shudder. Harry flung a small sandbag ball at his head, but Ron caught it without looking up.

"You are so predictable, Potter, it hurts," He smirked, tossing it back at Harry who let out an annoyed huff, "And I don't know why you're pouting," Ron continued with a mischievous grin, "Since I've just received an exclusive invitation for the interview and… two tickets for the game," he said, raising two colorful pieces of paper victoriously from the envelope.

"You what?!" Harry's eyes lit up and he was barely containing his excitement.

"Yup…and I think Percy will be delighted to go with me."

"You arse!"

"Did you seriously think I would leave you behind, love?" Ron cooed, winking at him and Harry rolled his eyes, "There is a VIP ticket with your name on it here."

And with that Harry jumped up, reaching for the tickets and Ron laughed out loud, struggling to keep his arm away from his friend.

"Oi, lovebirds," came a nervous voice from somewhere under the politics desks. It was blissfully quiet at their end of the office since the entire politics division was out on some congress for the day, so the voice from under their desks came as an unpleasant surprise to both Harry and Ron.

"What the hell?"

"And what is that smell?!"

Their noses wrinkled as a foul stench began circling their work area.

"Oh, no, hell no!" Ron exclaimed, pinching his nose, with Harry following suit.

"Beckett, I swear to Merlin, you guys are a health hazard!" Ron hissed, crouching under his desk, looking over to the other side. A man covered in something that could only be described as sticky turquoise puke looked at him with alarmed eyes. His hat was fuming and the tip of his nose was scorched.

"It wasn't me, it was Lindy!" He whispered, a pleading look hanging on his face.

"Why the hell did you let him temper with the formulas again?!" Harry asked, pushing his smaller frame against Ron under the desk.

"He always sounds like he knows what he's doing!" Beckett whelped.

"He only speaks Swedish, you tit! He is supposed to be your assistant!" Ron sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, well, will you help me or not?"

Before Harry or Ron could answer a well-known voice echoed through the office and both men jolted up instinctively, bumping their heads against the underside of Ron's desk.

"Shit, shit!" They crawled from under there and quickly adjusted their shirts, shushing Beckett and gesturing for him to hide somewhere else in the process.

"Ah, my Quidditch lads! How are we this fine Wednesday?"

"Pretty good, boss," Ron said, trying to sound casual as he eyed Beckett who was scrambling behind a large flower pot.

"Yes, Ron just received good news from the Bigonville Bombers, didn't you, Ron?" Harry interjected, fawning the air with several large photographs.

"Indeed I have!" Ron exclaimed in an overenthusiastic voice.

"Excellent! You'll tell me all about it later. I have an announcement, so you boys should come in front of my office in five."

"Sure thing, boss!" They chanted as Cobbleton sniffed the air around them.

"What's that -"

"Oh, uhm, Ron hasn't cleaned his drawers in some time now, boss, and he leaves food everywhere so - ouch!"

Ron elbowed Harry in the ribs and they both smiled at Cobbleton who grinned and shook his head before walking down the narrow passage between the desks to talk to their colleagues.

"Ron leaves food everywhere?" The redhead repeated sarcastically, his hands on his hips.

"It's plausible!" Harry shrugged.

"Your name is not really on the ticket, you know."

"Oh, come on mate…"

Ron snickered and pushed Harry forward and the two men signaled Beckett that the coast was clear, deciding to deal with his disaster after the announcement. A minute later they joined the crowd that was excitedly marching toward the boss' office. They were among the last to arrive and found a spot near Avery's desk.

"Oh look, it's your watercooler buddy," Harry nudged Ron who followed his gaze to Hermione standing to Cobbleton's right.

Their eyes met and Hermione nodded a greeting which Ron returned with a smile.

"Adorable," Harry sighed mockingly, pushing the feathers from the witch's hat in front of him out of his face.

"We're work colleagues, not buddies," Ron corrected him, his eyes still locked on the brunette dressed in a dark green blazer and brown slacks, twiddling her thumbs and biting her lower lip.

She's always so on edge.

"If you say so, buddy."

"Mate, you're already on thin ice," Ron whispered and Harry chuckled as the murmuring crowd around them fell silent when Cobbleton raised his hands seeking their attention.

"Hello everyone! I won't keep you long, but I prefer to share thrilling news in person, rather than through a memo." He clasped his hands and eyed the witches and wizards before him with glee, "I am delighted to tell you that we will hold a Winter ball in honor of Witch Weekly joining the Prophet!"

The office exploded in whoops, cheers and whistles and the evidently elated Cobbleton raised his hands once again before he spoke.

"Yes, yes, I'm as excited as you all are! Now, the ball will be held on the 22nd of December, the day before our Christmas holidays and you will all receive a formal invitation with the details. It will be a grand event for all of us to enjoy! That's it for now and thank you!"

Cobbleton received a round of enthusiastic applause and the witches and wizards slowly retreated in a cloud of jubilant babble.

"I hope there'll be that plus one thing on the invitation," Harry said hopefully.

Ron gave a jeering gasp and clutched his chest, "You aren't taking me?"

"As much as I would love to see you in a dress, I think Ginny would look considerably better in one," Harry replied, pushing through the still lingering crowd. Ron was about to retort when his back pocket vibrated and he pulled out his mobile.

Hey Ron, can we meet me at the watercooler for a minute?

Harry's head found it's way in front of the screen and before Ron could wiggle his way free from his nosy friend, he was already sniggering triumphantly.

"Seems like your colleague demands your attention," Harry wiggled his eyebrows.

"Shut up, it's not what you think," Ron shoved him aside and typed his reply.

Sure, c ya there!

"I guess you'll have to deal with Beckett's mess on your own this time, mate," Ron sighed sadly, stepping aside from the throng of chatting witches and wizards.

"Oi! Not a chance! You are the one with the peculiar knack for cleaning charms!" Harry moaned, walking backward so Ron could have a clear view of his disgruntled face.

"Again, not a peculiar knack, but enforced by Mum's broom in the Weasley household. Wait until you move in with Ginny," Ron said ominously as he watched Harry turn around with a loud groan. Before he began to walk to the kitchenette, Ron caught Rinaldi pushing something into Harry's pocket with a confident smirk and Ron made a mental note to ask Harry if it was the money he owned them both.

Straightening his Holyhead Harpies t-shirt that Ginny had gifted him last Christmas, Ron hurried across the office, relieved most people were still animatedly chatting about the upcoming event and ignoring him as his passed. Hermione was already sipping some water and tapping her foot when he joined her by the watercooler.

"Hey there, chief," Ron breathed, reaching for a paper cup.

"Hi, Ron," Hermione mumbled, scanning the kitchenette and surrounding area for eavesdroppers.

"What did you want to talk about?" He smiled, resting his arm on top of the bottle as he usually did.

"I was thinking about this ball thing…"

"Mm-kay…"

"And it is the perfect end-goal for us!" She said with a hopeful smile like her claim was self-explenatory.

"I don't follow," Ron quirked a brow at her in confusion.

After an exasperated sigh, Hermione continued, "Uhm, for our agreement? We should have them as dates for the event!"

"Ooooh!" Ron slapped his forehead with sudden realization, "you really meant that, did you?"

"Wha - Of course, I meant it!" She sputtered, agitated by his bemused look.

"Ok, ok, don't bite my head off, I was just taking the mickey… Although, I've got to say, this agreement of ours is starting to sound rather highschooly."

"Highschooly?" She repeated, crossing her arms.

He is such an ass.

Why is annoying her so much fun?

"I just like to have things planned out," She huffed a moment later, looking away.

"I can see that," he continued to jab and she replied with a deadly glare, so Ron stepped back, raising his hands up defensively, "Tell you what - our little league is on Friday and I can talk to the person of interest then. I also have some work to finish by Sunday, so I'll come in for an hour or so on Saturday. Do you want to meet here?"

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, looking for any hint of deception or ridicule, then tilted her chin up, "Fine. I will do my part and invite the other person of interest out for a cup of coffee on Friday and meet you here Saturday morning."

"Awesome," Ron exclaimed, clapping his hands.

"Don't act like you aren't going to benefit from our highschool deal," She gibed, indulging into his humor.

"Oh no, I am super pumped to converse about the delicate subject that is women with my Quidditch pal that I barely have something in common with."

Hermione bit her lips, but Ron could see she was stifling laughter rather than annoyance because her eyes were alight with amusement.

"But think about the reward for all your chivalrous efforts…" She elbowed his side and Ron managed to spill some water on his t-shirt to which she openly laughed.

"Ok then, see you Saturday morning, I guess," Hermione chuckled, stepping in front of him and waving her wand at his shirt. They both watched the wet spot on his chest disappear with a timid smile and it occured to Hermione how tall he truly was. She barely reached his shoulders in the heels she was wearing and she suddenly realized that there was something quite something about tall men.

"How tall is… uhm, you-know-who?" Hermione muttered, meeting his blue eyes which rolled back as soon as she uttered her question.

"Short by my standards, giant by yours," Ron replied, lightly tapping the top of her head and stepping aside, "I'd love to talk boys some more, but I need to get going."

There was that snort-laughter sound again and as he predicted, Hermione's hand shot up to cover her mouth, but this time, Ron caught her hand by the wrist and her eyes widened at the gesture.

"Don't be ashamed of having fun. Laughter is the best sound in the world - in all it's forms and tones," He winked at her and shoved his hands in his pockets, "See you around, chief."

Hermione watched his tall frame navigate around and between the chaos they called work, nodding and waving at the co-workers he passed and smiled. One of the many things she was teased for as a child was her laughter and over the years she had managed to create and adopt a more acceptable manner of voicing joy.

Tilting her head to one side, a single thought crossed her mind as Ron vanished from view.

Curious.

Snuggled into her favorite blue blanket, Hermione turned on the tv to provide some soothing background noise while she read. The cookie jar lay open, and her peppermint tea was steaming hot - all set for quite evening at her new home. She opened her book, then neatly set her Ravenclaw bookmark next to the cookie jar on the table, when the moving pictures caught her eye.

The commercials were over and the program announced the continuation of the film "High School Musical" and Hermione laughed out loud. Grabbing her phone from under the cushion, Hermione took a quick photo of the tv, then wrote a message under it.

I guess you meant we look and sound like them?

Ron leaned against the bar, waiting for Harry to finish shouting their order in the overcrowded Leaky. It seemed that their whole office had the need to vent and rant about the Winter ball. All of a sudden, Ron's pocket vibrated and he pulled out his phone. Hermione's name showed up in the notification bar and Ron pressed his mobile against his chest.

"I'm going to the loo," He announced and Harry gave him a questioning look.

"Can't it wait? I can't carry all of it myself."

"You're a big, strong boy, I'm sure you'll manage."

"Har, har, har, I'm serious!"

"I'll tell Nev to come over, don't panic sweetheart," Ron clapped his shoulder and walked toward the loo, signaling Neville to meet Harry at the bar.

He leaned against the wall close to the loo and opened the text message, letting out a small chuckle.

If you expect me to burst into song and dance on Saturday, then the deal is off.

Why not? It would make me laugh, I'm sure.

Would it, now? For your information, I am a very smooth dancer.

Doubt it.

Gasps!

Now I need to watch this film to find new ways to taunt you.

It's a musical. Honestly, Hermione - right there in the title - High School Musical. Need to go now, Harry is being an annoying prick. Good night!

Good night, Ron! Don't forget to dance smoothly. :)

Haha, how funny you are. Night! :)