Overheard
Title: Overheard
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: R/Hr
Genre: Angst
Word count: 500
Summary: Ron doesn’t like what he overhears Cormac say about Hermione.
Written for pigwithhair, who asked for a story where Ron sees Hermione go off with Cormac on the night of Slughorn's Christmas party.
Ron felt worse than he had in months. Lavender and Parvati had gone on for a good half hour during dinner about McLaggen and Hermione. Finally he’d told them to give it a rest. Offended, they had gone upstairs to their dormitory and left him on his own. That was fine by him. He didn’t care to hear another word about how many girls Cormac McLaggen had pulled.
Ordinarily he might have asked himself what Hermione saw in that prat, but she’d made that perfectly clear. He was a good Quidditch player. Ron snorted. McLaggen hadn’t even made the team.
Ron sat in an armchair near the window debating whether he ought to ask Harry to talk her out of going to the party with McLaggen. He had just decided to go upstairs and talk to him, when he heard her name. He looked round and saw McLaggen standing with a friend not far from where Ron was sitting.
“Granger?” the friend said. “The one who hangs around with Harry Potter?”
Cormac McLaggen brushed the lint off his jumper. “That’s the one.”
“She’s a bit of a swot, isn’t she?”
“So? Have you seen her arse? Her chest isn’t bad either. She could stand to lose a few pounds, but…”
A loud snapping sound echoed through the room as one of the windowpanes beside Ron’s chair suddenly cracked.
“What was that?”
“Probably a bird flying into the window,” McLaggen said dismissively.
Ron looked away angrily. It had been a very long time since he’d lost control of his magic like that. What was Hermione playing at going to Slughorn’s party with a bloke like this? He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the icy feeling in his chest.
“Here she comes now,” the friend said.
“Cleans up rather nice, doesn’t she? Nice jumper, too. Shows off her tits.”
At that, Ron stumbled out of his armchair, his wand in his hand before he was even aware of what he was doing. McLaggen turned toward him menacingly.
“All right, Weasley?” he said coldly.
Ron scowled and sat back down. Meanwhile Hermione made her way over. She did look rather nice. She was wearing a light blue jumper and a gray skirt. Her glowing smile made his chest ache even more.
“Hello, Cormac,” Hermione said in a ringing voice. “You look handsome.”
“Thanks. That’s a gorgeous jumper,” he said with a lecherous smile.
Ron thought he saw Hermione’s smile falter for a moment, but then she took his arm.
“Are you ready to go, then?”
“Definitely.”
He winked at his friend, raising one eyebrow in appreciation as he leaned back to look at her bum.
“I was just telling Randall about a Quidditch match I played with some blokes from Puddlemere United. I made some incredible saves.”
“Oh?”
“I was circling the left ring…”
Furiously, Ron watched them walk toward the portrait hole. He got up and stalked off toward the boys’ dormitory, wondering if tonight could possibly get any worse.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: R/Hr
Genre: Angst
Word count: 500
Summary: Ron doesn’t like what he overhears Cormac say about Hermione.
Written for pigwithhair, who asked for a story where Ron sees Hermione go off with Cormac on the night of Slughorn's Christmas party.
Ron felt worse than he had in months. Lavender and Parvati had gone on for a good half hour during dinner about McLaggen and Hermione. Finally he’d told them to give it a rest. Offended, they had gone upstairs to their dormitory and left him on his own. That was fine by him. He didn’t care to hear another word about how many girls Cormac McLaggen had pulled.
Ordinarily he might have asked himself what Hermione saw in that prat, but she’d made that perfectly clear. He was a good Quidditch player. Ron snorted. McLaggen hadn’t even made the team.
Ron sat in an armchair near the window debating whether he ought to ask Harry to talk her out of going to the party with McLaggen. He had just decided to go upstairs and talk to him, when he heard her name. He looked round and saw McLaggen standing with a friend not far from where Ron was sitting.
“Granger?” the friend said. “The one who hangs around with Harry Potter?”
Cormac McLaggen brushed the lint off his jumper. “That’s the one.”
“She’s a bit of a swot, isn’t she?”
“So? Have you seen her arse? Her chest isn’t bad either. She could stand to lose a few pounds, but…”
A loud snapping sound echoed through the room as one of the windowpanes beside Ron’s chair suddenly cracked.
“What was that?”
“Probably a bird flying into the window,” McLaggen said dismissively.
Ron looked away angrily. It had been a very long time since he’d lost control of his magic like that. What was Hermione playing at going to Slughorn’s party with a bloke like this? He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the icy feeling in his chest.
“Here she comes now,” the friend said.
“Cleans up rather nice, doesn’t she? Nice jumper, too. Shows off her tits.”
At that, Ron stumbled out of his armchair, his wand in his hand before he was even aware of what he was doing. McLaggen turned toward him menacingly.
“All right, Weasley?” he said coldly.
Ron scowled and sat back down. Meanwhile Hermione made her way over. She did look rather nice. She was wearing a light blue jumper and a gray skirt. Her glowing smile made his chest ache even more.
“Hello, Cormac,” Hermione said in a ringing voice. “You look handsome.”
“Thanks. That’s a gorgeous jumper,” he said with a lecherous smile.
Ron thought he saw Hermione’s smile falter for a moment, but then she took his arm.
“Are you ready to go, then?”
“Definitely.”
He winked at his friend, raising one eyebrow in appreciation as he leaned back to look at her bum.
“I was just telling Randall about a Quidditch match I played with some blokes from Puddlemere United. I made some incredible saves.”
“Oh?”
“I was circling the left ring…”
Furiously, Ron watched them walk toward the portrait hole. He got up and stalked off toward the boys’ dormitory, wondering if tonight could possibly get any worse.