Beware of the Slash

Chapter 1-Ron's reality

"I can't believe I'm doing this for you, Hermione," said Ron as Hermione whispered her goal into his ear.

"Ron, please! I can't just waltz on over there and kiss him!" Hermione wailed, waving her arms around frantically.

"Fine, fine I'll...wait a minute...there was no kissing on the contract!" Ron bellowed, grabbing a few stares from Gryffindor passersby.

"No, Ron! I'm not making you KISS him! I just want you to tell him how I feel," Hermione whispered, leading Ron to a small corner just a way away from Harry, who was staring bemusedly at Lavender and Seamus, who had just began to snog uncontrollably.

"All right, all right. I'll go now." Ron walked off, looking back at Hermione, daggers in his eyes. He made his way to Harry quietly, sulky a bit that Hermione liked Harry rather than himself.

Ron always had some sort of strange infatuation with Hermione Granger. It had started second year, fourth year being the year where clues began to be thrust at her. Yet, Hermione was so oblivious, he could hit her with a Beater club engraved with, "HERMIONE I LOVE YOU" and she'd have no idea what it was about. It was just the feel of being around her that made Ron feel so warm. So utterly warm. He would have dreams about her during class and at night, when he would hug her picture tightly to his chest. Harry had caught him doing so once and Ron denied the thing ever happened. Harry was still on his case about it, but had stopped because Ron would shoot daggers at him whenever he was around Hermione. Again, Hermione was oblivious, and here she was, asking Ron to tell Harry that she loved him and that they should meet in the Astronomy Tower for some...odd....reason.

"Ron...RON!" came Harry's cold voice from in front of him. Ron had been so lost in his thoughts, that Harry came to him as disturbing, and he loathed him from stopping his wonderful thoughts.

"Oh, yea, Harrry," said Ron miserably.

"Did you want to tell me something?" Harry asked, sounding quite girly at that.

"A little note from Hermione."

Harry suddenly lit up. "Hermione, you say?"

Ron frowned. "Harry...what did I say about that?"

"Oh, all right...sorry. Anyway, Hermione needed..."

"She wants to meet you in the Astronomy Tower, Harry. She loves you," said Ron. He grinned at Harry's nonplussed face and then said again, "She loves you, man! Go on! Talk to her!" He urged this as if he really wanted it. Harry smiled widely and walked off, over to Hermione, gaining his manliness again. Ron watched as Harry flexed his jaw muscle into an overly large grin and sighed, wanting Hermione so bad.

"This isn't happening," he said to himself as he jogged up the stairs to his dormitory. Once the door was slammed, he jumped onto his bed, entwined his fingers and put them behind his head before lying down completely.

He could just imagine the conversation Harry and Hermione were having...

'Yes, it’s true Harry. I love you more than anything!' Then she'd give him a big hug, and Harry would have that stupid, goofy grin on his face symbolising how much he enjoyed her affection.

But he didn't care. Not once had he shown an ounce of love for Hermione. Not once had he taken the time to single out that Hermione drooled over him. How she fawned over him for years. And who was there to pick up the disgusting comments she made at his every triumph? Ron...that's who. Speak of the devil, here Harry came now.

"Well, Ron, I've just become a man," said Harry, sounding quite smug.

"And what have you been this whole time?" Ron said, not wrenching his gaze from the top of his canopy.

Harry walked over to his bed, where Hedwig sat, waiting for a bit of a snack it seemed. "What have I told you about waiting here for food, Hedwig?" said Harry in a harsh voice causing Hedwig to flutter away, out of the room and to the Owlery, apparently mad.

"She never learns, that owl."

"So, what did Hermione say?" Ron asked, mad himself at Harry.

"Nothing much. We're going to talk more at the Astronomy Tower tonight. Ron, you're not...mad, are you?" Harry asked, sounding sympathetic. Ron didn't need Harry's pity...nor his mercy. Ron just about wanted to kill Harry now. Join Draco's Malfoy's league...and have NO leniency WHATsoever on the ignorant fool that Harry was being right now...but Ron stopped his thoughts, before he grabbed the knife conveniently located on his desk (He had been working on Potions homework an hour ago). He contained himself as Harry continued with the ordeal.

"Well, I should get ready. I mean, I've got to get that Invisibility cloak ready. 'Night, Ron." And he walked to his bed, clothes still intact, and climbed in to "sleep."

Then Ron laughed. It was only three. Harry, who had suddenly gotten hold of a watch, had laughed as well...so there they were...laughing...

"I'm going to the kitchens. I'm starved," said Ron, finally hauling his gaze from the canopy to the door. " 'Bye."

He left the common room in a hurry, making sure to catch the back of Hermione's bushy head for a smile. Something had to make him happy.

---

Ron tickled the pear to get into the kitchen and grinned when he saw the elves hard at work.

"Dobby welcomes Harry Potter's wheezy!" an elf up to Ron's knee bowed before him.

"Oh Dobby, no need for formal welcomes. Could I just have a quick meal?" said Ron as he made his way to one of the four long tables, not caring whether it was the Slytherin or Gryffindor table. He watched as Dobby hurried to a hard working group of elves and order them to cook up some sort of meal for Ron. Winky was one of those people. She looked quite happier from the last time they met. Ron supposed Mr. Crouch's death had finally worn off her; now, Ron supposed, she was just like Dobby, and Dumbledore was paying her as well. No thanks to Hermione, although Hermione claimed the deed was hers.

It took only five minutes for Ron to be served a proper meal, and he seemed quite content about it. He stared it down and grinned wildly.

"Tanks, Dobzzz!" He said through a mouthful of French fries. Ron hadn't realised how hungry he had been that afternoon. The food seemed his saviour; his sanctuary. So he threw it down his throat as fast as he could swallow.

"Dobby wishes to present Wheezy with more food. Me thinks he deserves it," said Dobby, walking over to that same group of elves and ordering up more food.

"Oh, Dobby! Thanks! But I can't...I should be getting back now," claimed Ron, standing up and grabbing his cloak, which had been thrown aside when he sat down.

"Dessert, the least?" asked Dobby, stretching out an arm and pointing to a freezer conveniently located near the stove.

Ron was sceptical at first but opted to go with it. "Oh all right Dobs." Ron made his way back to the seat and sat there, Winky coming to serve him Ice Cream and walking off to the fire, where Dobby sat, forcing down Butterbeers.

Ron stared at his food amazed. This is what these creatures did for a living. It's what they loved, what they thrived on. Serving others. He sat there, staring at the working elves, his ice cream beginning to melt. He let his mind travel...trying to endeavour on fixing his problems. No luck so far. But then his mind became a kaleidoscope, except it wasn't as colourful as those Muggles made it seem.

There was Hermione...Hermione Granger. Supposed bushy-haired, buck-toothed, omniscient Hermione. But now when he thought of Hermione, along came Harry, trotting along, as if he were the hero yet again. He let himself think of conversations he had with Hermione...mostly of Harry...

First came when he had met with Voldemort in first year, Hermione had gone back to rescue Ron while Harry went along to Voldemort. "Ron, come on! We've got to send an owl to Dumbledore! Harry might be killed!" She had rushed him up and hurtled him out of the Chessboard room to the Owlery, where she quickly scribbled a note on spare parchment to Dumbledore. Ron, still weak from the blow, sat limply on the floor, as Hermione sent a barn owl off. She kept whistling the same words, peeving Ron to death. "Please, let him be okay. Please, let him be okay!"

"HERMIONE!" Ron finally had the guts to scream.

"WHAT?"

"Would you shut up?" asked Ron, quite depressed that she had snapped like that.

Second came the Chamber of Secrets, when Hermione was unpetrified.

"YOU DID IT, HARRY!" Then she hugged him too tightly for Ron to stick around. His leaving had no affect on her whatsoever on Hermione, she had been too busy prodding Harry for his story. And so Ron had gone to Ginny, perhaps, to find out her story, instead of the Golden Boy's.

Third came Buckbeak...or the story Hermione so often referred to as "Her Dream." So she flew on Buckbeak, Golden Boy sitting in front her her, arms wrapped around his waist. Ron had heard this story so much from Hermione, that it had become his least favourite story, and he had declared that he would tell Hermione how he felt if she rattled it off again.

Hermione actually gloated little about Harry's escape from Voldemort, but gaped at him every time he had said his name with no fear at all.

Fifth and sixth year had been uneventful, Harry spending a lot of time with himself. Ron supposed he was just trying to sort out everything that had happened, and preparing himself for his last year at Hogwarts.

"Wheezy, sir! Wheezy, SIR!!!" came a loud elf's voice from Ron's left. It was Dobby, tugging at his sleeve. Ron looked at him longing for his sort of freedom...Ron had to get away from it all.

"Yes, Dobby?"

"Wheezy has let his ice cream melt, sir," said Dobby, pointing to the pile of melted ice cream gathering on the floor.