Fic: Funny Little Moment
Title: Funny Little Moment
Author:
that_september
Rating: PG.
Characters/Pairings: R/Hr, Lavender Brown.
Disclaimer: Alas, if only I owned such things as common rooms in British magical schools and Ron Weasley, but I do not. Blame J.K. for her awesome series.
Summary: In which Hermione defends Ron's intelligence and Keeping skills, Ron overhears and wonders, and Lavender opens her eyes. Oneshot, set in OotP.
“So, Hermione, who do you fancy?”
Sixteen-year-old Hermione Granger looked up from her Potions book, a bit surprised. She, Pavarti, and Lavender were sitting in Gryffindor common room doing their homework together (or at least, Hermione was trying to do her homework), and out of the blue a giggly conversation about blokes had started. Lavender and Pavarti rarely included her in such things; in fact, the only reason she was sitting with them now was because Ron and Harry had gone to bed early, both exhausted from Quidditch practice.
“Nobody in particular,” she responded at once, almost immediately feeling an unwanted blush creep across her cheeks.
“Ooh, look, Lav, she’s going all red,” Pavarti teased in a funny little voice. “Come on, Hermione, you can tell us. Is it Viktor you like, then?”
“No…no, he’s just a friend.”
“A very good-looking, International Quidditch-playing friend,” Pavarti observed while Lavender giggled wildly.
“Well…I suppose,” Hermione said primly, returning her eyes to her text book. “But we’re not anything more than pen-pals, really. After the Yule Ball last year, nothing developed between the two of us.”
“So you don’t fancy him?”
”No, not at all,” Hermione said, dipping her quill into her ink bottle and scribbling a few notes. “Now, if you don’t mind-”
“Oh, come on,” Lavender said at once, scooting closer and leaning in conspiratorially. “You don’t have to pretend; this is us, Hermione. We won’t, you know, tell anyone.”
Wow, I haven’t heard that one before, Hermione thought skeptically, eyeing the rather gossip-prone girl beside her.
“If we guess, will you tell us?” Pavarti asked, leaning in as well. “Please?”
“Well, all right,” Hermione capitulated, sitting down her book. “But I don’t see why you should care so much.”
“Don’t you want a boyfriend, Hermione?” Lavender asked seriously.
“Well…”
“Of course you do! If you tell us, we’ll help you get one! So let’s see…we’ll start with the obvious. Is it Harry?”
“What? Harry?” For once, Hermione was taken aback. “No, of course not.”
“Why not?” Pavarti asked at once. “He’s handsome, good at Quidditch….the bloody Boy-Who-Lived…”
“Well, yes,” Hermione agreed, “but he’s not…no, he’s more like my brother than anything. I’ve never thought of Harry like that.”
“Never?”
“Certainly I’ve noticed he’s good-looking,” Hermione said calmly. “But he’s just-he’s Harry. Oh, Merlin no-I wouldn’t ever fancy him. And he wouldn’t fancy me, either-it’s just-oh, ew.”
“Ew?” Lavender giggled. “He’s not that bad, Hermione.”
“Imagine if someone was suggesting you fancy your brother! That’s disgusting!”
“All right, all right, not Harry then.” Pavarti rolled her eyes. “How about Dean?”
“No.”
“Seamus?”
“Of course not. You fancy Seamus, don’t you, Lavender?” Hermione pointed out shrewdly.
“Maybe, a bit,” Lavender agreed. “Hm…oh, I have an idea! You’ll laugh good at this one, Hermione-how about Ron Weasley?”
“I-that’s…um…that’s…” Hermione trailed off, trying to duck her head so the crimson in her cheeks wouldn’t give her away again. “…silly,” she finished rather lamely. “That’s very silly.”
There was a beat or two of silence.
“Hermione,” Pavarti said very quietly, “do you fancy Ron?”
“No,” Hermione squeaked.
“You do, don’t you?” Lavender asked wonderingly, eyes narrowing at Hermione. “You fancy Ron Weasley?”
“Why isn’t he like your brother as well?” Pavarti queried. “I mean, you’re as good of friends with him as you are with Harry, but you argue with him all the time…and frankly, Ron’s not…well, he’s not…” She shrugged. “He just doesn’t seem like your type.”
“Why’s that?” Hermione asked quietly, staring down at her hands. Oh, I knew no good could come of this stupid conversation!
“We just always thought you’d like someone really smart,” Lavender said simply. She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, I guess Ron’s ok-looking…his hair is nice…but he’s sort of…well, he’s a bit insensitive at times, isn’t he? I mean, I heard that row you had after the Yule Ball last year, that was pretty bad. And aren’t you always helping him with his essays?”
“If he tried a bit harder, I wouldn’t have to help him at all,” Hermione said defensively, her voice rising. “Ron isn’t stupid, you know. I mean, he’s a really good strategist and he’s loyal and funny-”
“-and can’t save a goal in Quidditch for his life!” Pavarti put in loudly. “Honestly, Hermione, if it were anyone else…I mean, he doesn’t deserve you. Don’t you want somebody who’s as smart as you are…or I dunno, somebody who’s actually decent at Quidditch?”
“He’s my friend,” Hermione said sharply. “And he can too save a goal-he can save loads of them! It’s just that he gets nervous is all. Wait and see, Pavarti, he’ll win Gryffindor a match before the season’s out.” She glared. “And for the last time, Ron is not stupid!”
“Hermione, you don’t have to defend him,” Lavender said. “We won’t tell anyone, all right? What do you really think of him?”
“Listen, Lavender,” Hermione said angrily, “Ron Weasley is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He’s funny and brave and good at Quidditch when he wants to be, and he also cares! No matter what, he’ll care about you, honestly and completley care, and that’s more than all the silly, handsome boys you chase after will do for you!” Furiously, she collected her things, throwing them into her bag. “Stop being so shallow,” she spat at Pavarti and Lavender. “Stop being shallow, and look at a person for who they are for once in your lives!”
“Wow,” Pavarti murmured, watching her roommate stomp off. “She really does fancy him, doesn’t she?”
--
Ron Weasley couldn’t sleep. By all rights, he should have been snoring by now after that hellish Quidditch practice, but for some reason, he was wide awake. Groaning, he sat up in bed and pulled on his dressing gown, figuring he could at least finish his Potions homework or something equally productive. Merlin, fifth year was going to be the death of him…
Deciding he may as well go and find Hermione and see if she would be willing to explain some of the finer details of the assignment to him, he trundled off downstairs, and immediately spotted her in the common room. She was sitting with Pavarti and Lavender (that was odd, she usually didn’t spend much time with them…) and she seemed to be arguing with them. They had the closest chairs to the dormitory staircase, and if he leaned forward a little, he could just about hear what they were saying…
“If he tried a bit harder, I wouldn’t have to help him at all,” Hermione was telling her two roomates irritably. “Ron isn’t stupid, you know. I mean, he’s a really good strategist and he’s loyal and funny-” That’s weird. Why are they talking about me? Ron wondered, frowning.
“-and can’t save a goal in Quidditch for his life!” Pavarti interjected haughtily. Oh, Ron thought glumly, feeling the familiar wave of uselessness wash over him. That’s why. “Honestly, Hermione, if it were anyone else…I mean, he doesn’t deserve you. Don’t you want somebody who’s as smart as you are…or hell, somebody who’s actually decent at Quidditch?” What in the world is she banging on about? Ron thought, dislike for Pavarti blooming within him. Hermione can be friends with who she wants to…never mind that I’m not a bleeding Quidditch sensation like Vicky…
“He’s my friend. And he can too save a goal-he can save loads of them! It’s just that he gets nervous is all. Wait and see, Pavarti, he’ll win Gryffindor a match before the season’s out, “ Hermione announced. “And for the last time, Ron is not stupid!” Ron felt sort of funny, listening to this, like he was floating or something. He supposed he knew he and Hermione were best friends, but it wasn’t like they spent a lot of time boosting one another’s self esteem. In fact, he’d never heard Hermione talk like this about him before. Ever.
“Hermione, you don’t have to defend him,” Lavender was saying. “We won’t tell anyone, all right? What do you really think of him?”
“Listen, Lavender, Ron Weasley is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He’s funny and brave and good at Quidditch when he wants to be, and he also cares! No matter what, he’ll care about you, honestly and completley care, and that’s more than all the silly, handsome boys you chase after will do for you!” …What is going on here? Ron thought weakly, staring in disbelief at Hermione. What in bloody hell is going on? Suddenly, everything felt very surreal, and he was remembering exactly what he felt for Hermione, and why he felt it, too. Her angry voice, unexpectedly very close, startled him out of any other frantic thoughts ”…being shallow, and look at a person for who they are for once in your lives!” Hermione was bellowing, and he could see her stomping towards the staircases.
“Dammit!” he swore under his breath, taking three or four quick steps backwards. Unfortunately, his foot caught the lower stair and tripped him, making him fall flat on his back just as a furious Hermione rounded the dark corner, and saw him.
“Ron?” she squeaked, getting a good look at him. “I thought you were in bed!”
“Ow…I was, in bed, yeah, but then I got up to see if you’d want to work on some Potions. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh.” She stared at him for a moment, then rapidly shook her head. “Are you all right?”
“Here, let me help you…did you fall all the way down the stairs?” she asked, and he took her proffered hand, allowing her to help pull him to his feet.
“No…I…” He shook his head. “I didn’t.”
“Oh.”
They stared blankly at each other, and then he said, very quietly,
“Hermione, I heard what you were saying about me.”
“Y-you did?” For some odd reason, she looked highly disconcerted. “Ron, were you eavesdropping?”
“No! I just came down to find you and I saw you sitting by Lavender and Pavarti, and…well…!” He threw up his hands. “I just happened to overhear a few things you were saying!”
“Did…did you hear everything?”
“Well, no, I don’t think so. I just heard you telling Pavarti I wasn’t stupid and I was good at Quidditch when I wanted to be, and then saying I was one of the best friends you’d ever had and…and things.”
“Oh. I see.” She seemed to visibly relax. “Well…it was true, you know.” He stared down at her, smiling.
“You know, Hermione, you’re one of my best friends too. And it was nice of you to-to tell Lavender and Pavarti to sod off.”
“Well, of course I would. They weren’t exactly being nice, and they…they don’t know you like, not like I do.”
“No, they don’t.”
It was a funny moment, not unlike other, odd little moments they’d been having lately. Ron wasn’t thick (like Hermione had said), and he knew exactly how he felt about her.
It just felt weird to entertain the idea she might feel the same way.
“Hermione,” he said softly, taking a step forward, and he knew it all had to be written on his face, “I think I might-”
“I’ll help you with your Potions now, if you want,” Hermione said in a very high, strained voice, looking utterly terrified. “Tha-that is…if you…aren’t tired, now.” Ron stared at her once more, then sighed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. That’d be great, Hermione.”
When they walked back out to the common room and found a table, neither of them noticed, but Lavender Brown was watching Ron thoughtfully, her eyes narrowed.
Author:
that_september
Rating: PG.
Characters/Pairings: R/Hr, Lavender Brown.
Disclaimer: Alas, if only I owned such things as common rooms in British magical schools and Ron Weasley, but I do not. Blame J.K. for her awesome series.
Summary: In which Hermione defends Ron's intelligence and Keeping skills, Ron overhears and wonders, and Lavender opens her eyes. Oneshot, set in OotP.
“So, Hermione, who do you fancy?”
Sixteen-year-old Hermione Granger looked up from her Potions book, a bit surprised. She, Pavarti, and Lavender were sitting in Gryffindor common room doing their homework together (or at least, Hermione was trying to do her homework), and out of the blue a giggly conversation about blokes had started. Lavender and Pavarti rarely included her in such things; in fact, the only reason she was sitting with them now was because Ron and Harry had gone to bed early, both exhausted from Quidditch practice.
“Nobody in particular,” she responded at once, almost immediately feeling an unwanted blush creep across her cheeks.
“Ooh, look, Lav, she’s going all red,” Pavarti teased in a funny little voice. “Come on, Hermione, you can tell us. Is it Viktor you like, then?”
“No…no, he’s just a friend.”
“A very good-looking, International Quidditch-playing friend,” Pavarti observed while Lavender giggled wildly.
“Well…I suppose,” Hermione said primly, returning her eyes to her text book. “But we’re not anything more than pen-pals, really. After the Yule Ball last year, nothing developed between the two of us.”
“So you don’t fancy him?”
”No, not at all,” Hermione said, dipping her quill into her ink bottle and scribbling a few notes. “Now, if you don’t mind-”
“Oh, come on,” Lavender said at once, scooting closer and leaning in conspiratorially. “You don’t have to pretend; this is us, Hermione. We won’t, you know, tell anyone.”
Wow, I haven’t heard that one before, Hermione thought skeptically, eyeing the rather gossip-prone girl beside her.
“If we guess, will you tell us?” Pavarti asked, leaning in as well. “Please?”
“Well, all right,” Hermione capitulated, sitting down her book. “But I don’t see why you should care so much.”
“Don’t you want a boyfriend, Hermione?” Lavender asked seriously.
“Well…”
“Of course you do! If you tell us, we’ll help you get one! So let’s see…we’ll start with the obvious. Is it Harry?”
“What? Harry?” For once, Hermione was taken aback. “No, of course not.”
“Why not?” Pavarti asked at once. “He’s handsome, good at Quidditch….the bloody Boy-Who-Lived…”
“Well, yes,” Hermione agreed, “but he’s not…no, he’s more like my brother than anything. I’ve never thought of Harry like that.”
“Never?”
“Certainly I’ve noticed he’s good-looking,” Hermione said calmly. “But he’s just-he’s Harry. Oh, Merlin no-I wouldn’t ever fancy him. And he wouldn’t fancy me, either-it’s just-oh, ew.”
“Ew?” Lavender giggled. “He’s not that bad, Hermione.”
“Imagine if someone was suggesting you fancy your brother! That’s disgusting!”
“All right, all right, not Harry then.” Pavarti rolled her eyes. “How about Dean?”
“No.”
“Seamus?”
“Of course not. You fancy Seamus, don’t you, Lavender?” Hermione pointed out shrewdly.
“Maybe, a bit,” Lavender agreed. “Hm…oh, I have an idea! You’ll laugh good at this one, Hermione-how about Ron Weasley?”
“I-that’s…um…that’s…” Hermione trailed off, trying to duck her head so the crimson in her cheeks wouldn’t give her away again. “…silly,” she finished rather lamely. “That’s very silly.”
There was a beat or two of silence.
“Hermione,” Pavarti said very quietly, “do you fancy Ron?”
“No,” Hermione squeaked.
“You do, don’t you?” Lavender asked wonderingly, eyes narrowing at Hermione. “You fancy Ron Weasley?”
“Why isn’t he like your brother as well?” Pavarti queried. “I mean, you’re as good of friends with him as you are with Harry, but you argue with him all the time…and frankly, Ron’s not…well, he’s not…” She shrugged. “He just doesn’t seem like your type.”
“Why’s that?” Hermione asked quietly, staring down at her hands. Oh, I knew no good could come of this stupid conversation!
“We just always thought you’d like someone really smart,” Lavender said simply. She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, I guess Ron’s ok-looking…his hair is nice…but he’s sort of…well, he’s a bit insensitive at times, isn’t he? I mean, I heard that row you had after the Yule Ball last year, that was pretty bad. And aren’t you always helping him with his essays?”
“If he tried a bit harder, I wouldn’t have to help him at all,” Hermione said defensively, her voice rising. “Ron isn’t stupid, you know. I mean, he’s a really good strategist and he’s loyal and funny-”
“-and can’t save a goal in Quidditch for his life!” Pavarti put in loudly. “Honestly, Hermione, if it were anyone else…I mean, he doesn’t deserve you. Don’t you want somebody who’s as smart as you are…or I dunno, somebody who’s actually decent at Quidditch?”
“He’s my friend,” Hermione said sharply. “And he can too save a goal-he can save loads of them! It’s just that he gets nervous is all. Wait and see, Pavarti, he’ll win Gryffindor a match before the season’s out.” She glared. “And for the last time, Ron is not stupid!”
“Hermione, you don’t have to defend him,” Lavender said. “We won’t tell anyone, all right? What do you really think of him?”
“Listen, Lavender,” Hermione said angrily, “Ron Weasley is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He’s funny and brave and good at Quidditch when he wants to be, and he also cares! No matter what, he’ll care about you, honestly and completley care, and that’s more than all the silly, handsome boys you chase after will do for you!” Furiously, she collected her things, throwing them into her bag. “Stop being so shallow,” she spat at Pavarti and Lavender. “Stop being shallow, and look at a person for who they are for once in your lives!”
“Wow,” Pavarti murmured, watching her roommate stomp off. “She really does fancy him, doesn’t she?”
--
Ron Weasley couldn’t sleep. By all rights, he should have been snoring by now after that hellish Quidditch practice, but for some reason, he was wide awake. Groaning, he sat up in bed and pulled on his dressing gown, figuring he could at least finish his Potions homework or something equally productive. Merlin, fifth year was going to be the death of him…
Deciding he may as well go and find Hermione and see if she would be willing to explain some of the finer details of the assignment to him, he trundled off downstairs, and immediately spotted her in the common room. She was sitting with Pavarti and Lavender (that was odd, she usually didn’t spend much time with them…) and she seemed to be arguing with them. They had the closest chairs to the dormitory staircase, and if he leaned forward a little, he could just about hear what they were saying…
“If he tried a bit harder, I wouldn’t have to help him at all,” Hermione was telling her two roomates irritably. “Ron isn’t stupid, you know. I mean, he’s a really good strategist and he’s loyal and funny-” That’s weird. Why are they talking about me? Ron wondered, frowning.
“-and can’t save a goal in Quidditch for his life!” Pavarti interjected haughtily. Oh, Ron thought glumly, feeling the familiar wave of uselessness wash over him. That’s why. “Honestly, Hermione, if it were anyone else…I mean, he doesn’t deserve you. Don’t you want somebody who’s as smart as you are…or hell, somebody who’s actually decent at Quidditch?” What in the world is she banging on about? Ron thought, dislike for Pavarti blooming within him. Hermione can be friends with who she wants to…never mind that I’m not a bleeding Quidditch sensation like Vicky…
“He’s my friend. And he can too save a goal-he can save loads of them! It’s just that he gets nervous is all. Wait and see, Pavarti, he’ll win Gryffindor a match before the season’s out, “ Hermione announced. “And for the last time, Ron is not stupid!” Ron felt sort of funny, listening to this, like he was floating or something. He supposed he knew he and Hermione were best friends, but it wasn’t like they spent a lot of time boosting one another’s self esteem. In fact, he’d never heard Hermione talk like this about him before. Ever.
“Hermione, you don’t have to defend him,” Lavender was saying. “We won’t tell anyone, all right? What do you really think of him?”
“Listen, Lavender, Ron Weasley is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He’s funny and brave and good at Quidditch when he wants to be, and he also cares! No matter what, he’ll care about you, honestly and completley care, and that’s more than all the silly, handsome boys you chase after will do for you!” …What is going on here? Ron thought weakly, staring in disbelief at Hermione. What in bloody hell is going on? Suddenly, everything felt very surreal, and he was remembering exactly what he felt for Hermione, and why he felt it, too. Her angry voice, unexpectedly very close, startled him out of any other frantic thoughts ”…being shallow, and look at a person for who they are for once in your lives!” Hermione was bellowing, and he could see her stomping towards the staircases.
“Dammit!” he swore under his breath, taking three or four quick steps backwards. Unfortunately, his foot caught the lower stair and tripped him, making him fall flat on his back just as a furious Hermione rounded the dark corner, and saw him.
“Ron?” she squeaked, getting a good look at him. “I thought you were in bed!”
“Ow…I was, in bed, yeah, but then I got up to see if you’d want to work on some Potions. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh.” She stared at him for a moment, then rapidly shook her head. “Are you all right?”
“Here, let me help you…did you fall all the way down the stairs?” she asked, and he took her proffered hand, allowing her to help pull him to his feet.
“No…I…” He shook his head. “I didn’t.”
“Oh.”
They stared blankly at each other, and then he said, very quietly,
“Hermione, I heard what you were saying about me.”
“Y-you did?” For some odd reason, she looked highly disconcerted. “Ron, were you eavesdropping?”
“No! I just came down to find you and I saw you sitting by Lavender and Pavarti, and…well…!” He threw up his hands. “I just happened to overhear a few things you were saying!”
“Did…did you hear everything?”
“Well, no, I don’t think so. I just heard you telling Pavarti I wasn’t stupid and I was good at Quidditch when I wanted to be, and then saying I was one of the best friends you’d ever had and…and things.”
“Oh. I see.” She seemed to visibly relax. “Well…it was true, you know.” He stared down at her, smiling.
“You know, Hermione, you’re one of my best friends too. And it was nice of you to-to tell Lavender and Pavarti to sod off.”
“Well, of course I would. They weren’t exactly being nice, and they…they don’t know you like, not like I do.”
“No, they don’t.”
It was a funny moment, not unlike other, odd little moments they’d been having lately. Ron wasn’t thick (like Hermione had said), and he knew exactly how he felt about her.
It just felt weird to entertain the idea she might feel the same way.
“Hermione,” he said softly, taking a step forward, and he knew it all had to be written on his face, “I think I might-”
“I’ll help you with your Potions now, if you want,” Hermione said in a very high, strained voice, looking utterly terrified. “Tha-that is…if you…aren’t tired, now.” Ron stared at her once more, then sighed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. That’d be great, Hermione.”
When they walked back out to the common room and found a table, neither of them noticed, but Lavender Brown was watching Ron thoughtfully, her eyes narrowed.