Friday night fic
Title: Sibling Rivalry
Summary: Good sense told Ron to ignore it and go back upstairs. A DH missing moment that takes place on Harry’s birthday.
Rating: G, really
Word count: about 1200
Gen, with mentions of H/G and R/Hr
Carefully avoiding the next-to-last step, which always creaked, Ron entered the kitchen silently. He'd wanted a snack ever since lunch, and Harry's birthday dinner was still three hours away. Finally, in the midst of all the birthday and wedding preparations, there was a lull that left the kitchen empty. Casting a hungry look at the Snitch cake, he sneaked into the cupboard and nicked an unopened carton of biscuits. A loud swear word, unmistakably uttered by his sister, pierced the silence as he closed the cupboard door.
Good sense told Ron to ignore it and go back upstairs. But Hermione's voice echoed in his head, chastising him for interrupting Harry and Ginny and scolding him harshly for being so rude to Harry afterwards. It had taken every ounce of Ron's self control to maintain the air of quiet composure advised by Twelve Failsafe Ways in these situations for as long as he did. He suspected that the author had never been yelled at by Hermione.
Another swear word, punctuated by a sob, and he made up his mind.
He knocked softly on the door to the laundry room and opened it without waiting for a reply. What he saw was a surprise: Ginny, sweat dotting her face and glistening on her arms, hunched over an ironing board. There were two tall stacks of pressed and folded napkins on a table behind her and three baskets full of clean but wrinkled napkins to her right. The little room was stifling and smelled strongly of starch.
"Ginny? What the bloody hell...?"
Ginny looked thoroughly miserable, but she scowled when she saw that it was Ron.
"What do you want?" she hissed.
Ron's attention was drawn to a finger on her left hand, which seemed to be bleeding.
"I just heard....Are you okay?"
The look on Ginny's face made Ron scan the room for her wand; he was relieved not to see it anywhere nearby.
"Why would you care? You got what you wanted."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"Me. In here. Ironing 250 napkins for the wedding by hand," she growled. "Because I am too young," she said in a voice that sounded exactly like her mother's. Hands on her hips to complete the effect. "Too young for everything. Too young to help get Harry away from the Dursleys. Too young to drink Firewhisky. Too young to use magic. And definitely too young to snog anyone under Mum's roof."
She paused, and her expression changed. "And now," she continued, shoulders slumped and blinking back tears, "I’ve burned my hand, and it hurts, and I can't even fix it because Mum took my wand and I can't find the dittany."
Realization dawned on Ron, and he pulled his wand from his back pocket. He set the biscuits down on a shelf and held out his other hand. "Let me see."
He could tell that she was considering her options. After a moment, she seemed to make up her mind and showed him the injured finger.
Ron was no Healer, but being the youngest of six brothers, Quidditch Keeper, and Harry Potter's best friend had given him a fair amount of experience with wounds.
"Analgensis." That would take away the pain. "Percurio. Episkey." There was still a small red mark, but the wound was gone, and Ginny was bending and unbending the finger.
"Thanks," she whispered .
"Ginny....I - I know I barged in on you earlier, but I didn't tell Mum anything. I swear. I wouldn't do that."
"Then how did she find out?"
"I don't know. She must've heard me and Harry talking in the yard."
"What? You were talking in the yard about me? What did you say?"
"Just that...Look. It's not important. I just....I know how upset you were when he broke things off, and -"
Ron wasn't sure where to go with this line of thought. Ginny's arms were crossed tightly over her chest, but she didn't give any indication that she was going to interrupt.
"Well, we'll be leaving soon, and I just didn't want that to happen to you again."
Ginny arched an eyebrow at him. Surprisingly, she still didn't speak.
"Or maybe I'm just jealous."
Ron didn’t really mean to say it, but he knew as the words left his mouth that it was true.
"Of what?"
"Well, you. You know. Snogging Harry."
"You want to snog Harry?" She almost chuckled.
"Nooo. Of course not.” Why did she always have to take the piss....
“ Just." Ron closed his eyes and spoke very quickly. "The bloke you fancy is crazy about you, whereas Hermione will barely even hold my hand." He let out a long breath as he replaced his wand in his pocket.
Ginny's expression softened. "Oh. Oh, Ron. Hermione likes you. She does, I know. But she's - she's got a lot on her mind right now."
"I guess."
"It'll work out. It will. Just be patient. You'll have plenty of time together while you're -" She stopped, and seemed to realize how silly what she was about to say would sound.
"Trying to kill You-Know-Who? Yeah, birds really like it when the first date is a search for a mad murderer."
They both laughed.
"Well, Hermione does like a challenge. But at least you'll be doing something. Not stuck at Hogwarts, taking stupid classes, and wondering where your brother and his best friends are and if they're okay." Using her newly healed finger to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she sighed.
"Maybe I'm the one who's jealous."
"Of me?"
"Yeah. You'll be with him, you know. To help, and -" She blinked again, but no tears this time. "And to keep him from - from - getting hurt. Too badly."
Ron pretended not to hear her as he reached for the biscuits and opened them. He tilted the carton towards her in a wordless offer.
She shook her head. "You will, won't you? Look out for him?"
"Courff we will. Don't furry," Ron replied, spilling only a few crumbs.
Ginny looked a little dubious but somehow reassured at the same time. They stood there in silence until she finally gestured at the baskets of unironed napkins. "I better get back to these."
"No, I can do it." said Ron, hastily pulling his wand out again.
His skills at laundry charms were far less impressive than his Healing skills, and Ginny was soon rolling her eyes and scoffing at him.
"It's okay, Ron. I'll just do it."
"No. Look, Hermione is brilliant at stuff like this. I'll ask her to come help, and then it'll be done. I don't want you to spend the rest of the day in here." He gestured around the tiny room. "But - just - stay away from Harry, alright?" He turned to go.
"Ron?"
He stopped but didn’t turn to look at her. He knew what was coming.
"Do you really think he's - that he's crazy about me?"
After that snog this morning, did she really need to ask? Ron couldn't remember Harry ever being happier than the few weeks he spent with Ginny before Dumbledore died, and the look on his face after he promised that he wouldn't snog her again had told him all he needed to know.
He put another biscuit in his mouth.
"Yeah, he ith. Poor fod." Poor, lucky sod indeed, Ron thought as he headed back up the stairs to find Hermione.
Summary: Good sense told Ron to ignore it and go back upstairs. A DH missing moment that takes place on Harry’s birthday.
Rating: G, really
Word count: about 1200
Gen, with mentions of H/G and R/Hr
Carefully avoiding the next-to-last step, which always creaked, Ron entered the kitchen silently. He'd wanted a snack ever since lunch, and Harry's birthday dinner was still three hours away. Finally, in the midst of all the birthday and wedding preparations, there was a lull that left the kitchen empty. Casting a hungry look at the Snitch cake, he sneaked into the cupboard and nicked an unopened carton of biscuits. A loud swear word, unmistakably uttered by his sister, pierced the silence as he closed the cupboard door.
Good sense told Ron to ignore it and go back upstairs. But Hermione's voice echoed in his head, chastising him for interrupting Harry and Ginny and scolding him harshly for being so rude to Harry afterwards. It had taken every ounce of Ron's self control to maintain the air of quiet composure advised by Twelve Failsafe Ways in these situations for as long as he did. He suspected that the author had never been yelled at by Hermione.
Another swear word, punctuated by a sob, and he made up his mind.
He knocked softly on the door to the laundry room and opened it without waiting for a reply. What he saw was a surprise: Ginny, sweat dotting her face and glistening on her arms, hunched over an ironing board. There were two tall stacks of pressed and folded napkins on a table behind her and three baskets full of clean but wrinkled napkins to her right. The little room was stifling and smelled strongly of starch.
"Ginny? What the bloody hell...?"
Ginny looked thoroughly miserable, but she scowled when she saw that it was Ron.
"What do you want?" she hissed.
Ron's attention was drawn to a finger on her left hand, which seemed to be bleeding.
"I just heard....Are you okay?"
The look on Ginny's face made Ron scan the room for her wand; he was relieved not to see it anywhere nearby.
"Why would you care? You got what you wanted."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"Me. In here. Ironing 250 napkins for the wedding by hand," she growled. "Because I am too young," she said in a voice that sounded exactly like her mother's. Hands on her hips to complete the effect. "Too young for everything. Too young to help get Harry away from the Dursleys. Too young to drink Firewhisky. Too young to use magic. And definitely too young to snog anyone under Mum's roof."
She paused, and her expression changed. "And now," she continued, shoulders slumped and blinking back tears, "I’ve burned my hand, and it hurts, and I can't even fix it because Mum took my wand and I can't find the dittany."
Realization dawned on Ron, and he pulled his wand from his back pocket. He set the biscuits down on a shelf and held out his other hand. "Let me see."
He could tell that she was considering her options. After a moment, she seemed to make up her mind and showed him the injured finger.
Ron was no Healer, but being the youngest of six brothers, Quidditch Keeper, and Harry Potter's best friend had given him a fair amount of experience with wounds.
"Analgensis." That would take away the pain. "Percurio. Episkey." There was still a small red mark, but the wound was gone, and Ginny was bending and unbending the finger.
"Thanks," she whispered .
"Ginny....I - I know I barged in on you earlier, but I didn't tell Mum anything. I swear. I wouldn't do that."
"Then how did she find out?"
"I don't know. She must've heard me and Harry talking in the yard."
"What? You were talking in the yard about me? What did you say?"
"Just that...Look. It's not important. I just....I know how upset you were when he broke things off, and -"
Ron wasn't sure where to go with this line of thought. Ginny's arms were crossed tightly over her chest, but she didn't give any indication that she was going to interrupt.
"Well, we'll be leaving soon, and I just didn't want that to happen to you again."
Ginny arched an eyebrow at him. Surprisingly, she still didn't speak.
"Or maybe I'm just jealous."
Ron didn’t really mean to say it, but he knew as the words left his mouth that it was true.
"Of what?"
"Well, you. You know. Snogging Harry."
"You want to snog Harry?" She almost chuckled.
"Nooo. Of course not.” Why did she always have to take the piss....
“ Just." Ron closed his eyes and spoke very quickly. "The bloke you fancy is crazy about you, whereas Hermione will barely even hold my hand." He let out a long breath as he replaced his wand in his pocket.
Ginny's expression softened. "Oh. Oh, Ron. Hermione likes you. She does, I know. But she's - she's got a lot on her mind right now."
"I guess."
"It'll work out. It will. Just be patient. You'll have plenty of time together while you're -" She stopped, and seemed to realize how silly what she was about to say would sound.
"Trying to kill You-Know-Who? Yeah, birds really like it when the first date is a search for a mad murderer."
They both laughed.
"Well, Hermione does like a challenge. But at least you'll be doing something. Not stuck at Hogwarts, taking stupid classes, and wondering where your brother and his best friends are and if they're okay." Using her newly healed finger to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she sighed.
"Maybe I'm the one who's jealous."
"Of me?"
"Yeah. You'll be with him, you know. To help, and -" She blinked again, but no tears this time. "And to keep him from - from - getting hurt. Too badly."
Ron pretended not to hear her as he reached for the biscuits and opened them. He tilted the carton towards her in a wordless offer.
She shook her head. "You will, won't you? Look out for him?"
"Courff we will. Don't furry," Ron replied, spilling only a few crumbs.
Ginny looked a little dubious but somehow reassured at the same time. They stood there in silence until she finally gestured at the baskets of unironed napkins. "I better get back to these."
"No, I can do it." said Ron, hastily pulling his wand out again.
His skills at laundry charms were far less impressive than his Healing skills, and Ginny was soon rolling her eyes and scoffing at him.
"It's okay, Ron. I'll just do it."
"No. Look, Hermione is brilliant at stuff like this. I'll ask her to come help, and then it'll be done. I don't want you to spend the rest of the day in here." He gestured around the tiny room. "But - just - stay away from Harry, alright?" He turned to go.
"Ron?"
He stopped but didn’t turn to look at her. He knew what was coming.
"Do you really think he's - that he's crazy about me?"
After that snog this morning, did she really need to ask? Ron couldn't remember Harry ever being happier than the few weeks he spent with Ginny before Dumbledore died, and the look on his face after he promised that he wouldn't snog her again had told him all he needed to know.
He put another biscuit in his mouth.
"Yeah, he ith. Poor fod." Poor, lucky sod indeed, Ron thought as he headed back up the stairs to find Hermione.