Sweet Little Sister

Sweet Little Sister

Ron glanced at his watch for what seemed the third time in the last half hour. "Only ten minutes to go," he muttered to himself. Ten minutes before midnight. It was times like these that Ron truly hated being a prefect. Prowling the halls 'til the wee hours of the night was not his idea of a good time, especially when he had two rolls of parchment due tomorrow on the Protean Charm. The only consolation was that he got to spend time alone with Hermione, whom he secretly (or so he thought) fancied.

"Hermione, this is the fourth time tonight we've been down this hall. I think it's safe," said Ron.

"Yes, well, one can never be too sure," Hermione replied a little too quickly.

Ron peered at her suspiciously. She'd been acting awfully nervous all evening long. It seemed to Ron that she'd not been patrolling so much as biding time...for what, Ron didn't know. They hadn't even gone to the seventh floor tonight. Usually, Hermione made a point of patrolling the area in front of the Room of Requirement, searching for sneaking students.

"Come on, Hermione, let's go up to the seventh and then call it a night," Ron suggested.

"NO! Um, I mean, no I don't think that's necessary. I'm sure it's fine."

"What's gotten into you? Why are you avoiding the seventh floor? Is there something up there you don't want to see?"

Hermione blanched. "What--why would you say that? Of course I'm not avoiding anything, or anyone for that matter," she stammered.

Ron regarded her for a moment. "You're covering for someone," he said simply and dashed for the nearest upward-traveling staircase.

"NO!" Hermione screamed and tore after him. Ron bounded up three floors with Hermione hot on his tail. By the time they reached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, both were gasping for breath.

"There's only one person you'd cover for like this," Ron panted. "Harry. What's he doing in there that's so secret?"

"Can't....tell you," Hermione replied as she sat down to rest against the wall.

Ron joined her, resting his head against a picture of a troll clubbing some unfortunate soul in the tapestry. As he sat, realization sneaked up behind him with a rather large stick and clubbed him sharply over the head. "He's in there with a bloody girl.....shagging, I'd wager! He's got some scarlet woman in there and you're effing covering it all up!"

Hermione looked as if she couldn't decide between crying and vomiting. "Ron, please don't say anything! I promised Harry I'd keep it all very quiet! He'd kill me if he found out you knew!"

"Wait just a minute!" Ron hissed in reply. "Harry spent the whole bloody day in Hogsmeade with Ginny and now he's up here rubbing naughties with some trollop and YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP QUIET ABOUT IT?!"

"Ron, please," Hermione begged. "Let's just go back to the common room. We'll sort this all out in the morning, OK?"

OH, I'll go back to the common room, all right. But I'm waiting for Romeo in there to come staggering home. And when he does...."

Hermione could see that she wasn't going to talk Ron out of confronting Harry, so she gave him a push toward the stairs and returned with him to Gryffindor Tower. Once there, Ron bolted to his dormitory and returned shortly in pajamas and his dressing gown. "I'll wait here all night if I have to," he explained to Hermione. He then flopped into one of the chairs by the fire and stared angrily at the dying embers. Once again, Hermione could see she had no choice in the matter, so she too sat down in a chair, rocking nervously back and forth. The two of them waited like that for more than an hour.

"What the bloody hell could he be doing up there all this time?" Ron demanded.

Hermione answered his question by looking at him as though he'd just asked for a lightly grilled doxy on dry wheat toast.

"All right! All right!" Ron seethed, waving his arms frantically. "Oh, when he gets here, I'll kill him. I don't care WHO he is. No one cheats on MY sister!" At this pronouncement, Hermione managed to turn an even greener shade. To make matters even more interesting, at that moment, the portrait hole swung open.

This was when things really began to get....well, rather silly, truth be told.

Ron jumped up from his seat and stalked angrily toward the entrance. He was fully prepared to give his best friend the thumping of his life. He was, sadly, not at all prepared for the scene that greeted him. What Ron witnessed was Harry entering the Gryffindor common room, hand-in hand with a very satisfied-looking Ginny Weasley.

This fairly well stopped Ron dead in his tracks. He gaped, he gawped, he sputtered; pretty much the whole cornucopia of nonsensical noises that are uttered by someone confronted by a scene that they were about as prepared for as, say, catching one's grandfather dancing the Lambada in a black lace thong. In his defense, it should be noted that Harry and Ginny were every bit as surprised and incapable of saying anything intelligent.

"Y-...Y-...You!" Ron finally managed. He had a finger pointed accusingly at Harry's chest. "Just what the hell were you doing with my baby sister?!?"

Now it was Harry's turn to stammer. "I...well, that is, we...um...we were...uh," was all he managed to get out. Ginny saved the day, in a relative manner of speaking, by stating the obvious.

"We were shagging, Ron," she said abruptly.

"FOR FIVE HOURS?!? HERMIONE AND I WENT ON PATROL AT 8 PM! YOU WERE SHAGGING FOR FIVE HOURS?!? JUST HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU NEED TO DO THIS IN ONE EVENING?"

Never ask a question to which you do not expect an answer. Rhetoric is apparently looked upon as highly over-rated in the wizarding world.

"Seven," Ginny replied, casting an appreciative glance in her lover's direction. Harry tried valiantly not to look too pleased with himself. Judging from Ron's reaction, he failed miserably.

"Seven," Ron spat back incredulously. "Just couldn't get enough, could you Harry. Just couldn't resist turning her into a completely wanton tramp, COULD YOU?!?" Ron had, by this time, assumed the post of greenest person in the room.

"Actually, Ron, the last three times were Ginny's idea," Harry said. Ginny tried not to look too pleased with herself as Hermione giggled behind them all. She, also, failed miserably.

Ron jammed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "Find a happy place, find a happy place," he chanted quietly.

Pulling himself together, Ron advanced on Harry. "I trusted you! I've been supportive of you seeing Ginny and THIS is how you repay that trust! What were you playing at? How could you DO this? And, WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND PURE IS THAT SMELL?!?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged rather sheepish and embarrassed glances as Ginny clutched her robes tightly around her body, and then stared at the ceiling.

Realization, having developed quite a rapport with Ron, rained down upon him like a brick. Actually, it was more like several bricks. Well, to be perfectly frank about it, if all the bricks in the Tower Bridge could have collectively fell upon Ron as one....well, you get the idea.

He fought the urge to be sick. He fought in rather well, in fact. After making a few dry retching noises and flogging his eyes with the heels of his hands again, Ron collected himself, trying to give the air of calm and control.

"Go to bed, Ginny. I need to have a private word with dear Harry here."

"Ron, listen..." Ginny protested, but Ron cut her off.

"Go to bed...now," Ron interrupted through gritted teeth. His eyes were locked dangerously with Harry's.

"It'll be all right, Ginny," Harry reassured her, returning Ron's gaze.

Ginny looked at the both of them for a moment and resigned herself to allowing them to sort it all out. After giving Harry and goodnight kiss on the check (during which Ron's left eye twitched noticeably) she climbed the stairs and quietly shut herself in the girl's dorm.

As the door clicked shut, Harry unlocked his eyes from Ron's. He stared at the floor silently for a moment and then quietly said, "I do love her, Ron. You know that. And, whatever I did tonight, I didn't do anything to hurt her. She wanted to; we both did. It wasn't at all like you are imagining. Well, OK, it was probably SOMEWHAT like you imagine, but..."

OK, OK, I get the idea," Ron said and then sighed heavily. "It's just hard for me to imagine her as someone who would want...who is capable of..." He jammed his hands into his eyes and began chanting again when he saw Harry smiling dreamily.

"Anyway," Ron continued, "the biggest reason I was angry was because I thought you were up there with someone else. I couldn't understand how you could love Ginny and do....that...with someone else. I mean, I couldn't ever imagine being with anyone besides Hermione; unless I knew there was no hope. Even then, I don't know..."

Ron saw that Harry was smirking again.

"What?" Ron asked. "Ok, yeah, I admit it. I'm in love with Hermione. Have been since second year. Sure I think about doing that kind of thing with her all the time. I don't know if I could pull off seven though. Cripes mate, what do you eat? Although, I guess if Hermione were lying there whispering 'Come on Ron, I want it again,' I could probably find the energy. Does it surprise you? Don't you think I'm good enough for her? You think she wouldn't have me? Is that it?"

Harry nodded his head to a point behind Ron and said, "I don't know, mate. Why don't you ask her?"

Two words: Tower Bridge

Ron stared at Harry with sheer panic in his eyes. Apparently, his eyes wanted no part of this and closed themselves straight away. Ron buried the remainder of his face into open hands this time and asked, "She's still here, isn't she?"

The sound of oxford shoes approaching slowly echoed on the bare floor. As the owner of said shoes neared him, Ron began shaking visibly.

"Come and sit down, Harry," Hermione said after kissing a quivering Ron on the cheek. "We'll need to work out a schedule for the Room of Requirement."

Madam Pomfrey reports that Ron Weasley should be up and about in no time.