Ron's Biggest Fan (PG-13)
Title: Ron's Biggest Fan
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,800
Prompt: Only read if you want to be spoiled! Hermione Granger posing as a Ron Weasley fangirl
Warning: Reference to sexy times, nothing explicit (oh, what has become of me?)
Summary: Ron deals with a secret admirer
A/N: I have not written in what feels like ages. I hope you can all forgive the rust. Based on a drabble prompt given to me by the lovely biliussue.
Ron Weasley lopped into the cramped office he shared with Harry Potter, squeezing past the spare chair and filing cabinet to make the way to his desk.
As he struggled to fold his long legs under his desk, Ron noticed Harry sniggering behind a report - one he was holding upside down.
"Something funny, Potter?" Ron growled.
"Nope," Harry laughed. "You got some mail, left it on your desk."
"Wicked," Ron replied when he spotted Hermione's handwriting. He enthusiastically opened her letter, his ears reddening slightly as he read.
"All good?" Harry teased.
"Yeah, yeah." Ron smiled to himself as he stuffed Hermione's note in his pocket. "Classes are going fine, keeping her busy; says she can't wait till this weekend," he blushed.
"Any other mail?" Harry inquired, already knowing the answer and relishing Ron's response.
Oh no.
Ron looked down, noticed the familiar light blue envelope, and groaned. "Not again."
"What's she say this time?" Harry was practically bouncing in his seat with anticipation.
"Hold on, let me see." Ron ripped open the offensive letter, quickly scanning the contents.
"Read the story in the Prophet … I'm so brave (snort) … my biggest fan … wants me to tie- WHAT?"
"What?" Harry yelled. "What does she want you to do?" Harry jumped from his desk and scrambled around the furniture to peer over Ron's shoulder. "Tie what, where?" He let out a low whistle as he too scanned the letter.
"Girls actually think about things like that?" Ron sputtered. "I mean, yeah, I know they must … but I don't even know this bird and she wants to do things with me that Hermione doesn't … I mean, she does it, just not-"
"Please stop telling me about your sex life with Hermione," Harry interrupted with an exaggerated shiver. He slapped Ron on the back. "You are so screwed, mate."
"Whuh?"
"Keep reading," Harry said, shaking his head as he made his way back to his own desk.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Ron moaned, crumbling the blue paper in this hands. "She knows I'm gonna be in Hogsmeade this weekend - says she'll meet me at the Three Broomsticks! She plans to get a room, so we can … you know."
"So? Just don't go to the Three Broomsticks," Harry offered. "Simple solution."
"Yeah, I can hear the conversation now: 'Hermione, let's go to the Hogs Head instead, I know it's filthy and disgusting but there's a mad woman stalking the Three Broomsticks, looking to shag me senseless.' 'Sides, she could be hiding anywhere in Hogsmeade."
"Hermione'll understand," Harry assured him. "Probably," he added under his breath with a lot less confidence.
Ron moaned in response and banged his head on his desk in defeat. "I'll just have to do my best to avoid her."
"Avoid her? You don't even know what she looks like."
Ron sat up to look at Harry, a red welt forming on his forehead. "Says she'll be wearing a red silk scarf, so I can spot her - and we can slip away." Ron began banging his head again. THUD "fuck- THUD - me!" THUD
"Sounds like that's the plan," Harry mumbled. He cleared his throat nervously and continued, "You could always, uh, skip Hogsmeade this weekend, maybe find another time to visit Hermione."
"Not bloody likely!" Ron screamed, ready to jump out of his seat (if he could manage to untangle his legs).
"All right, calm down." Harry raised his arms in surrender. "Just a suggestion."
"I'm doomed," Ron groaned, as he returned to the rhythmic banging of his head on the desk.
*~*
"I can't believe you're really here." Hermione hugged Ron's arm tighter and smiled up at him.
"Uh, yeah, me too," Ron replied, scanning the crowded High Street nervously, his body tensing at every flash of red fabric.
"Ron, are you all right? You seem distracted." Hermione stopped walking and looked at him with concern.
"What? No, I'm fine." He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "Constant vigilance, that's all."
"Well, I think I know what you need, to keep your focus…" Hermione ran a hand slowly up Ron's chest, toying playfully with the edge of his cloak.
He tightened his grasp on her waist and nuzzled her ear. "A proper snogging?" he mumbled into her skin.
"Mmmm, th-that's not a bad idea … but first," she used her hand on his chest for leverage and pushed back, grabbing his questing arm as he reached for her. "First, some Butterbeer."
"Whuh? You sure?" Ron held his ground as Hermione tugged on him, trying to lead him to the Three Broomsticks. "Why don't we head on over and check in on ol' Aberforth … or maybe try Mrs Paddlefeet's place?"
"What is wrong with you?" Hermione huffed.
"Nothing," Ron replied, not daring to meet her eyes, lest she discover his lie. "We just always go the Three Broomsticks, that's all."
"Not since we've been together," Hermione whispered, her eyes downcast.
"We always go there together, what are you on about?" When Hermione didn't reply, Ron tried again, cupping her face so she'd look at him. "Hermione?"
"We haven't been there since we've been together together." With an exasperated sigh, she explained. "All though school I always wondered what it would have been like to go to Hogsmeade … with you - as your date or girlfriend, or what have you - and it always included a visit to the Three Broomsticks."
"Really?" Ron was having difficulty wrapping his mind around the idea that Hermione used to imagine going to Hogsmeade with him … as his girl, not just his friend. He mentally kicked himself for not acting on all the times he held himself back from grabbing her hand as they walked around the village, letting her know he wanted … needed … more than her friendship.
"Yes," Hermione admitted, blushing slightly. "We'd sit right in the middle of the pub, where everyone could see us - see that we were dating, more than just friends - we'd hold hands, we'd laugh, you'd try to snog me…," she paused to smile shyly, "I'd let you."
"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."
"I have." She looked him directly in the eye, her gaze strong and steady. "For a very long time."
"I think you've waited long enough." Ron gave her a brief yet tender kiss. "We've both waited long enough - let's go." He took her hand in his and lead her to the Three Broomsticks.
Once inside, Ron made certain to angle Hermione away from the door, while he sat facing it, keeping an eye out for his overzealous female admirer.
After their Butterbeers had been ordered and delivered and Ron had jumped one too many times at the sight of the opening pub door, Hermione's frustration could no longer be held in check.
"If you don't tell me what's bothering you right this instant Ron Weasley, I swear I'll-"
"Nothing!" he cried defensively.
"Ron," she sighed, exasperated.
"Well, there is this one thing," he mumbled, resigned to the fact he'd have to tell Hermione the truth. "It's not a big thing, really…" He stared at his hands as he twisted them in his lap, searching for the right words. "See, there's this girl-"
"A girl?" Hermione asked quietly.
Ron quickly looked up and began waving his arms around. "No no no no no - not a girl girl, not that kind of girl … I've never even met her, I have no idea who she is…"
Hermione held up a hand, indicating Ron should stop talking. "Let me get this straight, there's a girl, who you've never met-"
"And don't wannna meet," Ron offered earnestly.
"And you don't want to meet, and you have no idea who she is…"
"Right." Ron nodded enthusiastically.
"Well?" Hermione prompted when Ron said nothing more.
"Well, what?"
"Ugh!" Hermione threw up her hands in frustration, "What about this non-girl girl?"
"Oh," Ron sighed. "She, uh, writes me letters."
"Lots of girls write you letters - Harry, too - it's a fact of life Ginny and I have learned to deal with.
"Yeah, but these are different." Ron suddenly became very interested in the wood grain finish of the tabletop.
"Different how?"
Silence.
Ron could hear the rustle of Hermione slipping out of her cloak, preparing to stay at the Three Broomsticks until he caved. If he ever wanted to get past this, and get in a good snog (or more) before she had to return to school, he knew he'd have to give in. He dug his thumbnail into the wood of the table, watching as he chipped away at the finish. "Theyresessyleders," he mumbled.
"Pardon?"
"They're sexy letters," he repeated more clearly. "She writes me these really detailed letters of things she wants to do, uh … with me. I swear I've never, ever written her back."
Ron heard the sound of clinking metal on the table and he closed his eyes, fearing it was Hermione settling the tab so she could leave him there. Instead she wrapped her hand around his and squeezed.
"Do you want to do the things she's written?"
"Only with you Hermione," he looked up to see her smiling at him, no trace of anger or jealousy on her face, "I swear only ever with you!"
Ron stared at Hermione, thinking how absolutely beautiful she looked at that moment, smiling at him with such love and tenderness, her soft brown hair framing her face, the red of her scarf making her skin glow…
Red. Of her scarf.
Her scarf?
"You?" he hissed. Hermione's smile turned into more of a smirk. "Was this some kind of test or something?" Ron growled, snatching his hand away.
"No! Not at all! Oh, Ron. Nothing like that, I swear! I just… I mean I wanted…" Hermione trailed off, at a rare loss for words.
Ron crossed his arms and waited.
Hermione took a deep breath and continued, "I wanted to write those things to you - about us - but I knew Harry would ask you about what I had to say in my letters, and knowing you, you probably blush just from me telling you I love you and how much I miss you…"
Ron had to agree, that was true; he practically turned purple whenever he read one of her letters, as innocent as they were.
"And I didn't want Harry to know, I was embarrassed-"
"Of me?" Ron interjected.
"Heavens no! Embarrassed for wanting you so much, embarrassed of the things I wanted to do with you … Oh, what people would think-"
"They'd think you were in love - and that I was the luckiest damn bloke on the planet." This earned him a small smile. "So, um, did you, er, mean those things you wrote? In the, uh, sexy letters?"
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "I miss you so much, Ron," she confessed breathlessly. "I miss the way you taste, the way you feel, the way you make me feel."
Ron looked at the table and noticed it wasn't a pile of sickles Hermione had placed there earlier, but rather a room key. Nodding toward it, he asked, "This for us?"
"If you want," Hermione said, biting back a smile.
Ron snorted as he grabbed the key. Standing, he pulled Hermione out of her seat and pressed her hard against his body. "As if I'd disappoint my biggest fan."
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,800
Prompt: Only read if you want to be spoiled! Hermione Granger posing as a Ron Weasley fangirl
Warning: Reference to sexy times, nothing explicit (oh, what has become of me?)
Summary: Ron deals with a secret admirer
A/N: I have not written in what feels like ages. I hope you can all forgive the rust. Based on a drabble prompt given to me by the lovely biliussue.
Ron Weasley lopped into the cramped office he shared with Harry Potter, squeezing past the spare chair and filing cabinet to make the way to his desk.
As he struggled to fold his long legs under his desk, Ron noticed Harry sniggering behind a report - one he was holding upside down.
"Something funny, Potter?" Ron growled.
"Nope," Harry laughed. "You got some mail, left it on your desk."
"Wicked," Ron replied when he spotted Hermione's handwriting. He enthusiastically opened her letter, his ears reddening slightly as he read.
"All good?" Harry teased.
"Yeah, yeah." Ron smiled to himself as he stuffed Hermione's note in his pocket. "Classes are going fine, keeping her busy; says she can't wait till this weekend," he blushed.
"Any other mail?" Harry inquired, already knowing the answer and relishing Ron's response.
Oh no.
Ron looked down, noticed the familiar light blue envelope, and groaned. "Not again."
"What's she say this time?" Harry was practically bouncing in his seat with anticipation.
"Hold on, let me see." Ron ripped open the offensive letter, quickly scanning the contents.
"Read the story in the Prophet … I'm so brave (snort) … my biggest fan … wants me to tie- WHAT?"
"What?" Harry yelled. "What does she want you to do?" Harry jumped from his desk and scrambled around the furniture to peer over Ron's shoulder. "Tie what, where?" He let out a low whistle as he too scanned the letter.
"Girls actually think about things like that?" Ron sputtered. "I mean, yeah, I know they must … but I don't even know this bird and she wants to do things with me that Hermione doesn't … I mean, she does it, just not-"
"Please stop telling me about your sex life with Hermione," Harry interrupted with an exaggerated shiver. He slapped Ron on the back. "You are so screwed, mate."
"Whuh?"
"Keep reading," Harry said, shaking his head as he made his way back to his own desk.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Ron moaned, crumbling the blue paper in this hands. "She knows I'm gonna be in Hogsmeade this weekend - says she'll meet me at the Three Broomsticks! She plans to get a room, so we can … you know."
"So? Just don't go to the Three Broomsticks," Harry offered. "Simple solution."
"Yeah, I can hear the conversation now: 'Hermione, let's go to the Hogs Head instead, I know it's filthy and disgusting but there's a mad woman stalking the Three Broomsticks, looking to shag me senseless.' 'Sides, she could be hiding anywhere in Hogsmeade."
"Hermione'll understand," Harry assured him. "Probably," he added under his breath with a lot less confidence.
Ron moaned in response and banged his head on his desk in defeat. "I'll just have to do my best to avoid her."
"Avoid her? You don't even know what she looks like."
Ron sat up to look at Harry, a red welt forming on his forehead. "Says she'll be wearing a red silk scarf, so I can spot her - and we can slip away." Ron began banging his head again. THUD "fuck- THUD - me!" THUD
"Sounds like that's the plan," Harry mumbled. He cleared his throat nervously and continued, "You could always, uh, skip Hogsmeade this weekend, maybe find another time to visit Hermione."
"Not bloody likely!" Ron screamed, ready to jump out of his seat (if he could manage to untangle his legs).
"All right, calm down." Harry raised his arms in surrender. "Just a suggestion."
"I'm doomed," Ron groaned, as he returned to the rhythmic banging of his head on the desk.
*~*
"I can't believe you're really here." Hermione hugged Ron's arm tighter and smiled up at him.
"Uh, yeah, me too," Ron replied, scanning the crowded High Street nervously, his body tensing at every flash of red fabric.
"Ron, are you all right? You seem distracted." Hermione stopped walking and looked at him with concern.
"What? No, I'm fine." He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "Constant vigilance, that's all."
"Well, I think I know what you need, to keep your focus…" Hermione ran a hand slowly up Ron's chest, toying playfully with the edge of his cloak.
He tightened his grasp on her waist and nuzzled her ear. "A proper snogging?" he mumbled into her skin.
"Mmmm, th-that's not a bad idea … but first," she used her hand on his chest for leverage and pushed back, grabbing his questing arm as he reached for her. "First, some Butterbeer."
"Whuh? You sure?" Ron held his ground as Hermione tugged on him, trying to lead him to the Three Broomsticks. "Why don't we head on over and check in on ol' Aberforth … or maybe try Mrs Paddlefeet's place?"
"What is wrong with you?" Hermione huffed.
"Nothing," Ron replied, not daring to meet her eyes, lest she discover his lie. "We just always go the Three Broomsticks, that's all."
"Not since we've been together," Hermione whispered, her eyes downcast.
"We always go there together, what are you on about?" When Hermione didn't reply, Ron tried again, cupping her face so she'd look at him. "Hermione?"
"We haven't been there since we've been together together." With an exasperated sigh, she explained. "All though school I always wondered what it would have been like to go to Hogsmeade … with you - as your date or girlfriend, or what have you - and it always included a visit to the Three Broomsticks."
"Really?" Ron was having difficulty wrapping his mind around the idea that Hermione used to imagine going to Hogsmeade with him … as his girl, not just his friend. He mentally kicked himself for not acting on all the times he held himself back from grabbing her hand as they walked around the village, letting her know he wanted … needed … more than her friendship.
"Yes," Hermione admitted, blushing slightly. "We'd sit right in the middle of the pub, where everyone could see us - see that we were dating, more than just friends - we'd hold hands, we'd laugh, you'd try to snog me…," she paused to smile shyly, "I'd let you."
"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."
"I have." She looked him directly in the eye, her gaze strong and steady. "For a very long time."
"I think you've waited long enough." Ron gave her a brief yet tender kiss. "We've both waited long enough - let's go." He took her hand in his and lead her to the Three Broomsticks.
Once inside, Ron made certain to angle Hermione away from the door, while he sat facing it, keeping an eye out for his overzealous female admirer.
After their Butterbeers had been ordered and delivered and Ron had jumped one too many times at the sight of the opening pub door, Hermione's frustration could no longer be held in check.
"If you don't tell me what's bothering you right this instant Ron Weasley, I swear I'll-"
"Nothing!" he cried defensively.
"Ron," she sighed, exasperated.
"Well, there is this one thing," he mumbled, resigned to the fact he'd have to tell Hermione the truth. "It's not a big thing, really…" He stared at his hands as he twisted them in his lap, searching for the right words. "See, there's this girl-"
"A girl?" Hermione asked quietly.
Ron quickly looked up and began waving his arms around. "No no no no no - not a girl girl, not that kind of girl … I've never even met her, I have no idea who she is…"
Hermione held up a hand, indicating Ron should stop talking. "Let me get this straight, there's a girl, who you've never met-"
"And don't wannna meet," Ron offered earnestly.
"And you don't want to meet, and you have no idea who she is…"
"Right." Ron nodded enthusiastically.
"Well?" Hermione prompted when Ron said nothing more.
"Well, what?"
"Ugh!" Hermione threw up her hands in frustration, "What about this non-girl girl?"
"Oh," Ron sighed. "She, uh, writes me letters."
"Lots of girls write you letters - Harry, too - it's a fact of life Ginny and I have learned to deal with.
"Yeah, but these are different." Ron suddenly became very interested in the wood grain finish of the tabletop.
"Different how?"
Silence.
Ron could hear the rustle of Hermione slipping out of her cloak, preparing to stay at the Three Broomsticks until he caved. If he ever wanted to get past this, and get in a good snog (or more) before she had to return to school, he knew he'd have to give in. He dug his thumbnail into the wood of the table, watching as he chipped away at the finish. "Theyresessyleders," he mumbled.
"Pardon?"
"They're sexy letters," he repeated more clearly. "She writes me these really detailed letters of things she wants to do, uh … with me. I swear I've never, ever written her back."
Ron heard the sound of clinking metal on the table and he closed his eyes, fearing it was Hermione settling the tab so she could leave him there. Instead she wrapped her hand around his and squeezed.
"Do you want to do the things she's written?"
"Only with you Hermione," he looked up to see her smiling at him, no trace of anger or jealousy on her face, "I swear only ever with you!"
Ron stared at Hermione, thinking how absolutely beautiful she looked at that moment, smiling at him with such love and tenderness, her soft brown hair framing her face, the red of her scarf making her skin glow…
Red. Of her scarf.
Her scarf?
"You?" he hissed. Hermione's smile turned into more of a smirk. "Was this some kind of test or something?" Ron growled, snatching his hand away.
"No! Not at all! Oh, Ron. Nothing like that, I swear! I just… I mean I wanted…" Hermione trailed off, at a rare loss for words.
Ron crossed his arms and waited.
Hermione took a deep breath and continued, "I wanted to write those things to you - about us - but I knew Harry would ask you about what I had to say in my letters, and knowing you, you probably blush just from me telling you I love you and how much I miss you…"
Ron had to agree, that was true; he practically turned purple whenever he read one of her letters, as innocent as they were.
"And I didn't want Harry to know, I was embarrassed-"
"Of me?" Ron interjected.
"Heavens no! Embarrassed for wanting you so much, embarrassed of the things I wanted to do with you … Oh, what people would think-"
"They'd think you were in love - and that I was the luckiest damn bloke on the planet." This earned him a small smile. "So, um, did you, er, mean those things you wrote? In the, uh, sexy letters?"
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "I miss you so much, Ron," she confessed breathlessly. "I miss the way you taste, the way you feel, the way you make me feel."
Ron looked at the table and noticed it wasn't a pile of sickles Hermione had placed there earlier, but rather a room key. Nodding toward it, he asked, "This for us?"
"If you want," Hermione said, biting back a smile.
Ron snorted as he grabbed the key. Standing, he pulled Hermione out of her seat and pressed her hard against his body. "As if I'd disappoint my biggest fan."