Emotional Wizards

"Well If you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.

"Oh yeah?" Ron yelled back. "What's that?"

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"

...Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls' staircase to bed...

"Well," [Ron] sputtered, looking thunderstruck, "well-that just proves-completely missed the point-"

Ron continued standing there, opening and closing his mouth. Words failed him. He heard Harry chuckle and, following Hermione's lead, went on up to the dormitories as well.

"Women!" Ron exclaimed. His brief moment of awkwardness turned quickly into furry as he collapsed into the nearest chair by the fireplace.

Eyebrows furrowed, Ron stared into the fire, lost in his own thoughts, recalling the night's events...

She had looked so beautiful with her simple, elegant robes of blue, and her hair-for once-under control. Not that I don't like it bushy, he thought. For that is how Ron Weasley had always known, and now loved, Hermione Granger.

Yet tonight her elegance, beauty, and spirit had caused Ron's hormones to go on overdrive. To put it simply, he had been shocked--in a good way, no less.

As much as he hated to admit it, Hermione was right. He should've asked her to the Yule Ball first. But for perhaps the first time in Hermione Granger's life, she was wrong about something: She was never a 'last resort' to me. She was my first choice, actually. It was all about working up the nerve to ask her to the Ball.

Ron buried his face in his hands. I made such a fool of myself. She'll never like me now. Anyways, why would she want a good-for-nothing, dirt poor bloke like me? It's all about the fame, fortune, and money--like Krum. Ron made a sound of utmost disgust at the thought of him. Hermione had said so herself: He's not even THAT good looking....but then why had she gone to the Ball with him?

Ron sat there for a couple more minutes, the same thoughts crossing through his mind, a look of disgust still plastered on his face. Having had enough, Ron went upstairs to the boy's dormitory. He pulled off his dress robes (there were still loose threads where the frills used to be), and changed into his pajama's which, like everything else he owned, were becoming much too small for him.

Before climbing into bed, Ron noticed something on his bedside table: the miniature figure of Krum he bought at the Quidditch World Cup. It seemed like only yesterday I was in the stands cheering him on at the World Cup, and now...well he's officially my worst enemy...even though he doesn't quite know it. Grabbing the figure off the table, Ron started forcing it apart.

"Not...bloody....fair...." he kept repeating through clenched teeth as Krum's legs, arms, and head fell to the floor. Finally, Ron just threw what was left of the figure. Where it went, he didn't know, nor did he really care. Ron sat on the side of his bed, staring at the floor. A feeling of frustration he had never experienced before, nor did he even know existed, overcame him. All was quiet in the dormitory (minus Neville's snores); silence surrounded him, until...

"Isn't it funny that when it comes to emotions, it's almost impossible to distinguish a wizard from a Muggle or vice versa?"

Ron jumped. Harry was sitting up in his bed, looking straight at Ron, a wry smile on his face.

"Wha...what are you talking about?" Ron managed to say. It couldn't be THAT obvious---could it?

Harry gave a soft laugh, not wanting to wake the others in the dormitory.

"Oh I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. 'Completely missed the point', did she?" Harry said, winking at him. "Don't worry about it, mate." Harry paused. "I wish I had a figure of Cedric I could tear up."

For the second time that night, Ron was left speechless. Both Harry and Ron sat in silence for a couple of seconds before Harry bade Ron good night and he lay back in his bed.

"G'night," Ron replied groggily to Harry as he finally lay down in his bed, pulled the covers over him, and closed his eyes, Harry's words repeating in his mind. "Isn't it funny that when it comes to emotions, it's almost impossible to distinguish a wizard from a Muggle or vice versa?" He had said.

Yeah....funny....

Soon enough, Ron's snores joined Neville's in disturbing the silence of the night. An owl was hooting off in the distance, and Hermione Granger still lay in her bed, wide awake, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.