shaun0505
45... no...6
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- Seen Jun 2, 2010
Wipe up my Tears
The door of the Owlery opened and an irate red-headed figure thundered into the room. His blue eyes hardly took in the person that was standing confused at the side, who had been tying a letter to a handsome grey owl's leg.
Yet Ron Weasley's mind was elsewhere. Where? Well, down in the Great Hall, of course, where he had just received, much to his detest, a Howler. Draco Malfoy and some of his fellow Slytherins had been laughing their arses off about it around the time that he left.
This being the second time he had received an Howler, he was not as well prepared as someone who, perhaps, had received a dozen howlers. Yet he ripped it open anyways, and fell to the floor as his fathers grave and inhumane voice, the one he used the very few times he got truly angry, shouted for all to hear about how he had shamed him and the family.
Why? What had he done that made the earsplitting roar pound inside each eardrum of everyone who had been in the Great Hall at that time?
And then it hit him. Of course, it had to be Draco Malfoy, it just had to. Ron had rememberd how, at the start of the term, Draco had insulted and cursed Hermione on the Hogwarts Express.
Ron had hesitated. Should he attack back? Or should he wait and tell a professor once they arrived at Hogwarts? Of course, being Ron, and being irrational, he had opted for the first choice and had struck Malfoy. Of course, it had been three months ago, but Tonks, who had been riding on the train with them, said that she would have to report it.
It was only a stunning spell, and he was so angry that he almsot missed his target to beging with. Would it have been better if he had? And besides, he had stunned Malfoy plenty of times before, so many that he couldn't keep track of what the present count was. Yet, and it pained Ron to say this, they were at war, so they would have to give people like Malfoy certain leeway, and then send his sorry little behind all the way to Azkaban, or so he hoped.
It took a minute for Ron to realize why he was in the owlery. Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him: he was going to send a letter to his parents, complaining that if he hadn't attacked Malfoy, the slimy git would have pushed his luck and attacked Hermione again.
Hermione.... Something about that name stirred thoughts and memories in the back of his head, until -
"Um, Ron?"
Ron spun around and sighed deeply. Of course! He had walked right past Hermione without noticing her on his way to his owl, Pig. He tried to give her one of his lavish grins, but the anger that had exploded inside of him since the arrival of the Howler halted that.
"Are you okay?"Hermione asked as her owl flew out of the window and into the sky, making a few restless owls squawk shrilly, as though they were telling her that this was not the best time to go and send a letter.
"Yeah," Ron lied, then decided that he was going to attempt a change of conversation. "Where's Harry?"
"Out on the grounds, playing with Luna," came the reply.
Ron stared at Hermione for a moment, his eyes flicking to the distant grounds where he saw a figure creeping up on someone behind a tree. What was that Hermione had said? "Playing?" What were they doing, playing Quidditch? But as his eye darted to the Quidditch pitch on the right of the grounds where the two were chasing each other around, he saw that there were no brooms in the air. It was too cold for Quidditch anyways.
"What do you mean, playing?" he asked.
Hermione stifled a quick giggle. What did she know that Ron didn't? Blood pulsed through his veins. First the Howler, now this. His anger must have shown in his face, for Hermione added quickly, "Playing hide and seek."
Hide and seek? Was Harry completley off his rocker? He looked at Hermione, but she had gone to gaze out of the open window that her owl had just flown out of. Gazing at the wintery scene. Ron quickly joined her.
"You know Ron," Hermione said, "you really shouldn't worry about Harry. He's happy."
Would Ron be happy with Luna as his girlfriend? He doubted it, and in any case, the screaming....
"You'd think so wouldn't you?" Ron suddenly snapped.
Hermione stiffened her posture, her back straightening.
"Every night, he wakes up, screaming his head off. I'm that close," he made a gesture with his fingers, "to screaming at the top of my lungs right along with him. Neville's thrashing around in his bed every night, yelling god-knows-what and you-know-what, and no one else cares."
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You think it's only you lot. You don't want to know what I dream of every night. It's as if I'm trapped, trapped inside a room I can't get out of, and every night I know what's going to happen."
A tear sped down the side of Hermione's face, and for a moment, Ron felt extremely stupid. He took a handkerchief out from the inside of his robes and wiped away her tears.
"I'm sorry," he said in a hushed voice.
Hermione hiccupped, but smiled weakly. Her hand was laying on the open window sill, waiting to be held. Ron glanced nervously at it, but Hermione turned to look at him at that exact moment, and so he turned back quickly to continue to staring out of the nearest window.
"Weird, isn't it?" Hermione queried.
Ron turned back to her, their gazes meeting shakily. Hermione's face looked extremely cold and flushed. Ron knew that he wanted to hold that face, to wipe away the sorrow and pain and then -
"I mean," Hermione continued, "we've been here for five years and in that time, you haven't once said you fancied me. And don't say you don't, I know you do."
Ron's eyes widened. He suddenly seemed incapable of blinking and could only stare at Hermione. He looked rather like Luna Lovegood during one of her very frequent staring phases.
"Sorry, I -"
"Well, I think it would help if you said it now," Hermione pressed.
She turned to face Ron fully and he suddnely felt weird, as if he had just fallen into an enclosure with a Hungarian Horntail and couldn't get out. Hermione smiled weakly once again, and Ron felt his stomcah lurch.
"Go, on!"
"Well, um, I, er...."
"Out with it!" she badgered.
Hermione obviously was enjoying this experience. Ron wasn't. He just wanted to get his feelings out in the open and kiss her, but he couldn't.
"I... fancy you," Ron said slowy.
Hermione shook her head. She looked annoyed, but that could have just been Ron's judgement.
"Oh, kiss me, Weasley," she said, exasperation in her voice.
Whereas before, his face muscles were tight and unwilling to move, now they suddenly became flaccid and droopy. Ron looked up into Hermione's eyes and fell forward until his lips touched with the girl's.
An owl shot past them. Perhaps it was an owl with magical abilities because Ron now felt as if he had no other worries, as if he was going to fall into an abyss with Hermione, to stay with her forever.
He reached out his arm and placed it around Hermione's shoulder. Hermione reached up and placed her arms around Ron's neck.
Ron felt Hermione's weight on his back, but he also felt her warmth spread through his body.
Then came the snow. Just before, there were small periods of snow, which led, eventually, to the snow all around them now, but the snow that was falling now was enough to cover the castle twice.
They pulled apart. Ron felt cold all of a sudden. Hermione looked colder. So he did all that he could do: he reached over and embraced her in a deep hug that filled him again with warmth.
"Come on," came Hermione's voice softly in his ear, "let's get some dinner."
The door of the Owlery opened and an irate red-headed figure thundered into the room. His blue eyes hardly took in the person that was standing confused at the side, who had been tying a letter to a handsome grey owl's leg.
Yet Ron Weasley's mind was elsewhere. Where? Well, down in the Great Hall, of course, where he had just received, much to his detest, a Howler. Draco Malfoy and some of his fellow Slytherins had been laughing their arses off about it around the time that he left.
This being the second time he had received an Howler, he was not as well prepared as someone who, perhaps, had received a dozen howlers. Yet he ripped it open anyways, and fell to the floor as his fathers grave and inhumane voice, the one he used the very few times he got truly angry, shouted for all to hear about how he had shamed him and the family.
Why? What had he done that made the earsplitting roar pound inside each eardrum of everyone who had been in the Great Hall at that time?
And then it hit him. Of course, it had to be Draco Malfoy, it just had to. Ron had rememberd how, at the start of the term, Draco had insulted and cursed Hermione on the Hogwarts Express.
Ron had hesitated. Should he attack back? Or should he wait and tell a professor once they arrived at Hogwarts? Of course, being Ron, and being irrational, he had opted for the first choice and had struck Malfoy. Of course, it had been three months ago, but Tonks, who had been riding on the train with them, said that she would have to report it.
It was only a stunning spell, and he was so angry that he almsot missed his target to beging with. Would it have been better if he had? And besides, he had stunned Malfoy plenty of times before, so many that he couldn't keep track of what the present count was. Yet, and it pained Ron to say this, they were at war, so they would have to give people like Malfoy certain leeway, and then send his sorry little behind all the way to Azkaban, or so he hoped.
It took a minute for Ron to realize why he was in the owlery. Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him: he was going to send a letter to his parents, complaining that if he hadn't attacked Malfoy, the slimy git would have pushed his luck and attacked Hermione again.
Hermione.... Something about that name stirred thoughts and memories in the back of his head, until -
"Um, Ron?"
Ron spun around and sighed deeply. Of course! He had walked right past Hermione without noticing her on his way to his owl, Pig. He tried to give her one of his lavish grins, but the anger that had exploded inside of him since the arrival of the Howler halted that.
"Are you okay?"Hermione asked as her owl flew out of the window and into the sky, making a few restless owls squawk shrilly, as though they were telling her that this was not the best time to go and send a letter.
"Yeah," Ron lied, then decided that he was going to attempt a change of conversation. "Where's Harry?"
"Out on the grounds, playing with Luna," came the reply.
Ron stared at Hermione for a moment, his eyes flicking to the distant grounds where he saw a figure creeping up on someone behind a tree. What was that Hermione had said? "Playing?" What were they doing, playing Quidditch? But as his eye darted to the Quidditch pitch on the right of the grounds where the two were chasing each other around, he saw that there were no brooms in the air. It was too cold for Quidditch anyways.
"What do you mean, playing?" he asked.
Hermione stifled a quick giggle. What did she know that Ron didn't? Blood pulsed through his veins. First the Howler, now this. His anger must have shown in his face, for Hermione added quickly, "Playing hide and seek."
Hide and seek? Was Harry completley off his rocker? He looked at Hermione, but she had gone to gaze out of the open window that her owl had just flown out of. Gazing at the wintery scene. Ron quickly joined her.
"You know Ron," Hermione said, "you really shouldn't worry about Harry. He's happy."
Would Ron be happy with Luna as his girlfriend? He doubted it, and in any case, the screaming....
"You'd think so wouldn't you?" Ron suddenly snapped.
Hermione stiffened her posture, her back straightening.
"Every night, he wakes up, screaming his head off. I'm that close," he made a gesture with his fingers, "to screaming at the top of my lungs right along with him. Neville's thrashing around in his bed every night, yelling god-knows-what and you-know-what, and no one else cares."
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You think it's only you lot. You don't want to know what I dream of every night. It's as if I'm trapped, trapped inside a room I can't get out of, and every night I know what's going to happen."
A tear sped down the side of Hermione's face, and for a moment, Ron felt extremely stupid. He took a handkerchief out from the inside of his robes and wiped away her tears.
"I'm sorry," he said in a hushed voice.
Hermione hiccupped, but smiled weakly. Her hand was laying on the open window sill, waiting to be held. Ron glanced nervously at it, but Hermione turned to look at him at that exact moment, and so he turned back quickly to continue to staring out of the nearest window.
"Weird, isn't it?" Hermione queried.
Ron turned back to her, their gazes meeting shakily. Hermione's face looked extremely cold and flushed. Ron knew that he wanted to hold that face, to wipe away the sorrow and pain and then -
"I mean," Hermione continued, "we've been here for five years and in that time, you haven't once said you fancied me. And don't say you don't, I know you do."
Ron's eyes widened. He suddenly seemed incapable of blinking and could only stare at Hermione. He looked rather like Luna Lovegood during one of her very frequent staring phases.
"Sorry, I -"
"Well, I think it would help if you said it now," Hermione pressed.
She turned to face Ron fully and he suddnely felt weird, as if he had just fallen into an enclosure with a Hungarian Horntail and couldn't get out. Hermione smiled weakly once again, and Ron felt his stomcah lurch.
"Go, on!"
"Well, um, I, er...."
"Out with it!" she badgered.
Hermione obviously was enjoying this experience. Ron wasn't. He just wanted to get his feelings out in the open and kiss her, but he couldn't.
"I... fancy you," Ron said slowy.
Hermione shook her head. She looked annoyed, but that could have just been Ron's judgement.
"Oh, kiss me, Weasley," she said, exasperation in her voice.
Whereas before, his face muscles were tight and unwilling to move, now they suddenly became flaccid and droopy. Ron looked up into Hermione's eyes and fell forward until his lips touched with the girl's.
An owl shot past them. Perhaps it was an owl with magical abilities because Ron now felt as if he had no other worries, as if he was going to fall into an abyss with Hermione, to stay with her forever.
He reached out his arm and placed it around Hermione's shoulder. Hermione reached up and placed her arms around Ron's neck.
Ron felt Hermione's weight on his back, but he also felt her warmth spread through his body.
Then came the snow. Just before, there were small periods of snow, which led, eventually, to the snow all around them now, but the snow that was falling now was enough to cover the castle twice.
They pulled apart. Ron felt cold all of a sudden. Hermione looked colder. So he did all that he could do: he reached over and embraced her in a deep hug that filled him again with warmth.
"Come on," came Hermione's voice softly in his ear, "let's get some dinner."
