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ciirceeRandom note for today: I am not currently posting challenge fics/challenge drabbles in this journal. They are posted to the journal community that issued the challenge. A link to these stories can be found in my memories.
Also: Any warnings a story might need will be carried in the story header, under the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling and various publishing giants. It’s fan fiction. I don’t get paid for infringement. Deal with it.
Dedication: To anybody reading it, I guess.
Note: R/Hr and not beta’d. Killing time until I have orientation for the night job.
Rating: Pretty darn G.
Proximity
No way. No way. Ron whipped around to stare at Hermione. Or rather, after her; she was walking away, down the hall, down the stairs, to the room she’d share with Ginny for the summer.
She didn’t look back and Ron was glad. Glad, glad, glad, he told himself. Because he was standing outside the door to his room (and Harry’s, if Dumbledore and the Order ever let Harry come to stay) and he was fairly well certain that he looked like somebody had hit him, hard, with the ice-cold bludger-club of realization.
Because somebody must have done.
Hermione was smart. She was fun, when she wasn’t going spare over something. And she was pretty. The first two Ron had known for ages. That last one…that was new. It went hand in hand with the lurking menace in the shadows of his mind. He wasn’t going to look into that shadow, not yet, because he had the sneaking suspicion that if he did he’d get hit with that club again. He was pretty sure that ‘I fancy Hermione’ was what was over there. There, by the giggling supposition that he’d like to buy her flowers. Nestled up next to the glaring signs that said he’d been very jealous of Viktor Krum. Two and a half steps from the knowledge that buying Hermione candy for Christmas wasn’t going to work anymore, because (the idea half a step back hinted) he’d like to buy her something that would…maybe…mean something. Maybe.
“What are we looking at?” Fred asked, appearing at his shoulder with a loud cracking sound.
“Hermione,” Ron answered without thinking, still staring at an empty hallway.
Fred nodded. “Ah. And when did she learn to make herself invisible?”
“Shut up,” Ron muttered. “She went with Ginny to see her room.”
George appeared with a second crack of sound. “What are we looking at?” he asked, staring down the hall.
“The hallway,” Fred answered.
“Ah. Of course.”
Ron sighed. “Hermione’s here. She just went off with Ginny to see where she’s sleeping.”
George nodded. Then he turned to Fred. “What did you say to him?”
“Not a bloody thing! I found him like this,” Fred threw up his hands. “Didn’t Mum make me swear on your life that I’d leave Ron alone about Hermione?”
“True, true, she did make you swear. And me as well, come to think.”
Ron did his level best to ignore those unwelcome bits of information, choosing to let them slide into the area of his brain reserved for things like seeing his parents kissing and the like. “I was surprised to see her,” he said with a shrug.
“We’ve known for a week solid that she’d be coming along!” Fred said, smiling wickedly.
“Yeah, you can’t be too surprised to find Hermione standing about outside your bedroom,” George added, grinning unrepentantly.
Ron looked at one brother and then the other, poking into the corner of his brain that occasionally told him to punch the twins right in their identical, smirking faces. “I didn’t know she was here. I was surprised,” he repeated coolly “to see her.”
“Riiiiight.”
“Ron?” Hermione was calling up the stairs.
Both Fred and George disappeared and Ron could hear them reappearing somewhere on the floor above him. Ron groaned silently to himself. That was just exactly what he needed; Fred and George thinking that they knew something.
Ron shoved the last few minutes of thought out of sight and jump the railing to land beside Hermione on the landing below. “Yeah?”
She startled but quickly recovered, rolling her eyes at him and grinning when he only grinned at her in response. “Your mum wants us to help her clean,” she told him. “I thought we could start by making some lists. You know …every room on each floor, what needs to be done in each, what should be seen to first...”
“Sure,” Ron shrugged. He kicked at the faded rug on the floor. “You want to do it together? We might miss something if we divvy it up.”
“Sure,” Hermione smiled warmly up at him.
Yes, Ron’s brain nodded along with his heart. Oh yes, indeed there was a way.
Also: Any warnings a story might need will be carried in the story header, under the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling and various publishing giants. It’s fan fiction. I don’t get paid for infringement. Deal with it.
Dedication: To anybody reading it, I guess.
Note: R/Hr and not beta’d. Killing time until I have orientation for the night job.
Rating: Pretty darn G.
Proximity
No way. No way. Ron whipped around to stare at Hermione. Or rather, after her; she was walking away, down the hall, down the stairs, to the room she’d share with Ginny for the summer.
She didn’t look back and Ron was glad. Glad, glad, glad, he told himself. Because he was standing outside the door to his room (and Harry’s, if Dumbledore and the Order ever let Harry come to stay) and he was fairly well certain that he looked like somebody had hit him, hard, with the ice-cold bludger-club of realization.
Because somebody must have done.
Hermione was smart. She was fun, when she wasn’t going spare over something. And she was pretty. The first two Ron had known for ages. That last one…that was new. It went hand in hand with the lurking menace in the shadows of his mind. He wasn’t going to look into that shadow, not yet, because he had the sneaking suspicion that if he did he’d get hit with that club again. He was pretty sure that ‘I fancy Hermione’ was what was over there. There, by the giggling supposition that he’d like to buy her flowers. Nestled up next to the glaring signs that said he’d been very jealous of Viktor Krum. Two and a half steps from the knowledge that buying Hermione candy for Christmas wasn’t going to work anymore, because (the idea half a step back hinted) he’d like to buy her something that would…maybe…mean something. Maybe.
“What are we looking at?” Fred asked, appearing at his shoulder with a loud cracking sound.
“Hermione,” Ron answered without thinking, still staring at an empty hallway.
Fred nodded. “Ah. And when did she learn to make herself invisible?”
“Shut up,” Ron muttered. “She went with Ginny to see her room.”
George appeared with a second crack of sound. “What are we looking at?” he asked, staring down the hall.
“The hallway,” Fred answered.
“Ah. Of course.”
Ron sighed. “Hermione’s here. She just went off with Ginny to see where she’s sleeping.”
George nodded. Then he turned to Fred. “What did you say to him?”
“Not a bloody thing! I found him like this,” Fred threw up his hands. “Didn’t Mum make me swear on your life that I’d leave Ron alone about Hermione?”
“True, true, she did make you swear. And me as well, come to think.”
Ron did his level best to ignore those unwelcome bits of information, choosing to let them slide into the area of his brain reserved for things like seeing his parents kissing and the like. “I was surprised to see her,” he said with a shrug.
“We’ve known for a week solid that she’d be coming along!” Fred said, smiling wickedly.
“Yeah, you can’t be too surprised to find Hermione standing about outside your bedroom,” George added, grinning unrepentantly.
Ron looked at one brother and then the other, poking into the corner of his brain that occasionally told him to punch the twins right in their identical, smirking faces. “I didn’t know she was here. I was surprised,” he repeated coolly “to see her.”
“Riiiiight.”
“Ron?” Hermione was calling up the stairs.
Both Fred and George disappeared and Ron could hear them reappearing somewhere on the floor above him. Ron groaned silently to himself. That was just exactly what he needed; Fred and George thinking that they knew something.
Ron shoved the last few minutes of thought out of sight and jump the railing to land beside Hermione on the landing below. “Yeah?”
She startled but quickly recovered, rolling her eyes at him and grinning when he only grinned at her in response. “Your mum wants us to help her clean,” she told him. “I thought we could start by making some lists. You know …every room on each floor, what needs to be done in each, what should be seen to first...”
“Sure,” Ron shrugged. He kicked at the faded rug on the floor. “You want to do it together? We might miss something if we divvy it up.”
“Sure,” Hermione smiled warmly up at him.
Yes, Ron’s brain nodded along with his heart. Oh yes, indeed there was a way.
