Rating:
G
House:
Riddikulus
Ships:
Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Characters:
Harry Potter Ron Weasley
Genres:
Friendship
Era:
Harry and Classmates Post-Hogwarts
Stats:
Published: 02/21/2011
Updated: 02/21/2011
Words: 2,806
Chapters: 1
Hits: 74

Much Ado About Hermione

i.ll-be-a-knight

Story Summary:
Ron and Harry try to figure out what to get Hermione for her birthday.

Much Ado About Hermione

Posted:
02/21/2011
Hits:
74


"Bloody hell, Harry. What have I done?"

Harry only shook his head as he looked at the horrified expression on his best mate's face. "I tried talking you out of it, but of course you wouldn't listen."

"You could have tried harder!" Ron exclaimed in a panicked and slightly hysterical tone. "Why didn't you Stupefy me or something, or hell, even use the Imperius curse? Anything to stop me from coming here."

"Oh, believe me, I thought about it. But I can't possibly pass up the chance to see you squirm in the name of love." He placed an emphasis on the last word, knowing it would annoy Ron even more.

"Shut up," he grumbled. "If I didn't need you here--"

Harry grinned as he threw an arm around Ron's shoulders. "But you do, so you're stuck with me. Besides, as the Muggles say, misery loves company. And you are definitely miserable."

The sentiment was quite appropriate, given the setting they were currently in. They stood just inside the threshold of a very large Muggle department store, women's section, specifically. It amused Ron slightly to think that he had walked headlong into battle with more courage than what he was feeling at the moment. But perhaps even the bravest of men, whether he was a wizard or a Muggle, would cower at the thought of the daunting task ahead.

Shopping. The word alone nearly made him shudder. He hated shopping, unless he was stocking up on sweets in Hogsmeade or longingly admiring the latest and fastest brooms in Diagon Alley. But Hermione's birthday was just a few days away and in typical fashion, he kept putting off buying her a present, thinking that getting her gift would be as easy as the previous years. He was quickly disillusioned when his mum and Ginny kept pointing out that since he and Hermione were dating, he'd have to put more effort and thought to any gift he got her from now on.

He still wasn't used to the label of "boyfriend," even though he and Hermione were very much a couple now and have been for a few months. He supposed the reason was because he'd been her best friend for much longer and hadn't quite adjusted to fulfilling the role of both. He had thought that their relationship would essentially remain the same, with the very pleasurable addition of snogging. However, this was not the case, as he was coming to figure out. They continued to argue all the time and they got on each other's nerves as always, but he was now more mindful of not hurting her feelings and he found himself wanting to do whatever he could to make her happy. He loved the sound of her laughter and the way her eyes lit up just before she smiled; she had so many little mannerisms and traits that never caught his attention until now. He cared for her in a way that he never thought was possible; it was something much deeper, powerful, and meaningful than anything he'd ever felt for anyone else.

"Blimey," Ron muttered. His senses were assaulted by the mingling scents of various perfumes, bright fluorescent lights, and music that seemed to come from nowhere yet could be heard everywhere. He'd never felt more out of place. "I think I'd rather hunt for Horcruxes again."

Harry briefly thought about other things he could be doing right now, such as...well, he actually had the whole day free with no pressing matters to take care of. But he'd rather spend his time clipping Kreacher's toenails without the aid of magic than wandering around looking for gifts with a wizard who'd never had prolonged exposure to Muggles. He supposed it was a testament to their friendship that he had agreed to go with Ron even though leaving the comfort and familiarity of the wizarding world was just a recipe for disaster. Best mates, indeed.

It's not that Harry minded being back in the Muggle world; if anything, he relished his anonymity here because to everyone else, he was just a spectacled young man with an oddly shaped scar and not The Boy Who Lived. But much like Ron, he hated shopping and while Harry may have been raised in the non-magical environment, he knew that both of them were out of their element when it came to the task at hand.

"I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Ginny and Mum," Ron told him with a scowl.

"Somehow I can't see them forcing you to shop with Muggles."

"It's not that. They keep giving me these suggestions and it was driving me crazy. I had to leave the wizarding world to escape them. You make one mistake on Valentine's Day--"

"What mistake?" Harry asked curiously.

Ron mumbled an incomprehensible response, his face slightly red with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"I got her a subscription to the Daily Prophet."

Several startled shoppers turned around at Harry's outburst of laughter. "For Valentine's Day?" he asked incredulously.

"She said she needed it as her subscription was set to expire! You know how practical she is--"

"Look, I'm no expert on girls, but even I could've figured out that a newspaper subscription is just about the least romantic present you can give someone, no matter how sensible she might be."

"You don't have to rub it in. Lesson learned." Ron shook his head as he remembered how smug he'd felt when he presented Hermione with the gift, only to have her call him thick and insensitive. In hindsight, it really shouldn't have surprised him that even a girl like Hermione longed for a bit of romance. "You should have seen the look she gave me. It could have petrified a Basilisk, let me tell you."

Harry laughed even harder at the image. "Yet you managed to escape, unharmed. Good for you, mate."

"I thought she was going to unleash those damn canaries again...or worse."

"So how long did it take for her to start talking to you again?"

"Only a day." Ron grinned. "I can be pretty convincing, if you know what I mean." And the bouquet of flowers he'd hurriedly plucked from an unsuspecting neighbor's yard certainly didn't hurt his case. There may have been a bit of groveling on his part, but Harry didn't need to know that.

"Please don't elaborate. You know, in a way it serves her right. Remember when she got us those homework planners in our fifth year?"

"How can I forget? I could hear that thing in my sleep. 'Do it today or later you'll pay!'" Ron mimicked.

"She had good intentions," Harry conceded. "But I have to say, that particular gift was only slightly better than the tissue I received from the Dursleys a few years ago. So do you have any idea what you're going to get her, then?"

"No. But it has to be something special."

"That certainly narrows it down."

"Harry, this is really important," Ron said gravely. "She...she means a lot to me." He cleared his throat at the admission; it was the closest he'd come to admitting to anyone else how much he truly cared about her.

"Right. Maybe we should actually go into the store instead of just standing here blocking the doorway."

Ron took a deep breath. He'd faced giant spiders, played life-sized Wizard's Chess, fought in a war, confronted an escaped prisoner, destroyed a piece of a dark wizard's soul, and was part of an underground revolutionary movement to throw off a dictatorial regime. No way in bloody hell was he going to be intimidated by a women's store in unfamiliar territory! "Let's go."

Harry stifled a laugh at the grim determination on his friend's face. This may very well end up being a waste of time, but at least he would get some amusement out of it. "Think of it this way, Ron. It can't be worse than Aragog...or You-Know-Who."

They ventured further into the store. "I take it you've already bought Hermione's present?" Ron asked.

"Not yet, but I thought I'd get her a new set of quills that I saw in Diagon Alley. I figured she could use it since she's going to finish her final year in Hogwarts."

A store employee, seizing the opportunity to wrangle a sale from two young men who looked utterly clueless, seemed to materialize in front of them.

"Doing a bit of shopping, are we? Who's the lucky lady? Sister? Mum? Girlfriend? What's her size?"

The way she bombarded them with questions reminded Harry eerily of Rita Skeeter. He wisely stayed out of the conversation and pretended to be interested in the wildly patterned scarves that lay neatly folded on a nearby table.

As he watched Ron gesticulating with his hands in a poor attempt to depict Hermione's measurements, Harry thought about the quills he was planning to buy. It made sense for Ron to put in the extra time, care and deliberation into buying Hermione's birthday gift since they were now dating and, presumably, because his best mate was falling in love with her (if he wasn't already). But Hermione was more than just a friend to Harry, as well; she was like a sister to him. If it weren't for her vast skill with spells and charms, he and Ron would never have made it past their first year in school, and not strictly in the academic sense, either. She constantly looked out for them throughout their many adventures, getting them out of tight spots with her quick thinking and magical knowledge. Sure, she may be a bit of a nag at times and had ruined their fun on more than one occasion, but much like the homework planners, her intentions were good.

She'd also been with him at Godric's Hollow when he saw his parents' graves for the first time, a pivotal point in his young life. It was a poignant moment he can never share with anyone else. She means a lot, Ron had told him. Harry wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment. The quills, an inspired idea at the time, now seemed like a woefully inadequate gift for someone who was so important.

Ron joined him then, looking as if a Bludger had just hit him square in the head. "Right, I'm not getting her any clothes," he remarked dazedly, his head still buzzing with the woman's whirlwind questions and suggestions. "That's just asking for trouble."

"I've decided not to give her the quills," Harry informed him.

"Oh yeah? Hey, we can pick out her present together," he suggested.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think she'd like that. If she's not happy with what we get her, then it won't be completely my fault!"

"Thanks a lot," Harry muttered sarcastically.

"Between the two of us, I'm sure we'll come up with something," Ron said encouragingly. "But just in case, I hope you've been practicing your Shield charm."

They moved away from the clothes and made their way to the other side of the store, tossing ideas around. "How about books? What does she own?" Harry asked.

"The question is, what doesn't she own?" Ron replied. "It'd be too difficult to figure that out."

They walked past the fragrance displays. "Perfume?" Harry suggested.

Ron made a noise that showed his ambivalence and shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. I already got her that a couple of years ago, though." And he much preferred it when Hermione smelled only of her soap and nothing else.

"All right." Harry led the way to a jewelry display case. "How about this?" He showed Ron a silver necklace.

He fiddled with the charm. "I've had enough of lockets to last me a lifetime, thanks."

Harry remained silent for a moment. "Have you told her?" he asked, referring to what they had seen prior to Ron destroying the Horcrux.

"No. I don't know if I should. She might not understand." Or worse, she might think he was stupid for feeling the way he did.

"You're wrong," he countered. "When we had our falling out during the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione was telling me how it must be like for you, wanting me to see your side of things. I really had no idea you felt that way, but she knew this whole time. Of course it's up to you if you want to tell her; I won't say anything about the Horcrux. But she understands a lot more than you think, mate. And to think, even after knowing all of that, she still wants to be with you." Harry grinned at him.

Ron smiled back. "Thank Merlin she's not her usual logical self when it comes to relationships. I'd have no chance otherwise."

They continued to browse fruitlessly as inspiration seemed to elude them. Another store employee was standing nearby. "How may I assist you today?" she asked.

Ron and Harry exchanged glances. She didn't seem as intimidating as the other woman they encountered earlier and they needed all the help they can get.

"We are trying to find a birthday present," Ron replied.

She smiled at them. They both looked so lost, she couldn't help but sympathize. "Why don't you tell me about her?"

"She's our best friend--"

"But she's my girlfriend too--"

"She's really smart--"

"Bit of a know-it-all, actually--"

"She can be bossy and sometimes doesn't know how to have fun..."

"And she's stubborn and she likes to argue..."

"But she's incredibly loyal and patient..."

"And she's stronger than she probably thinks she is," Ron mused, thinking not only of the time Hermione had slapped Malfoy in the face, but also of how she'd held her own in the battles they'd fought and the way she remained unflaggingly reliable while they were out on their own, searching for Horcruxes. "She has saved our lives many times."

"She's always willing to help," Harry remarked, remembering how Hermione would oversee their homework assignments and secretly assist Neville in Potions class. He thought of S.P.E.W. and added, "She even helps those who don't realize that they need it."

Ron nodded in agreement. "She's funny and brilliant and amazing."

"And, perhaps most importantly, she puts up with us," Harry said.

The store employee stared at them for a brief moment. "She almost sounds too good to be true." Another customer approached her just then, asking to unlock a display case so that he could examine some of the merchandise. She gave Ron and Harry an apologetic look before walking away.

"Well, there's no point in just standing here and waiting for her to come back," Harry pointed out. "Why don't we split up and keep looking?" They went in opposite directions, hoping that a revelation would strike.

Ron aimlessly wandered around, lost in thought. He actually didn't mind that the store employee wasn't providing her input. It was hard to explain, but he felt that this gift, whatever it was that he and Harry would eventually decide on, would be more meaningful if the idea came completely from them and not the result of someone else's influence. Hermione deserved that much, at the very least.

Something on a shelf caught his eye. He reached up and pulled down an ornately decorated box. It was white and slightly heavy, with swirling patterns etched in silver and gold. He carefully opened the lid and was surprised to hear music coming from the inside. He closed the box and looked at the attached price tag; the numbers meant nothing to him, but his gut feeling told him that this was it, the perfect present. The box itself was functional, which would appeal to Hermione's practical side, but the music added a sentimental touch that he knew she'd appreciate. He hurried off to find Harry, who was at the other end of the store.

"What do you think of this?" he asked.

Harry examined the porcelain object and pried open the top. "It's a music box," he said as he listened to the tune. "It sounds familiar, but I don't know the name of it. I'm sure Hermione would. Ron, this is brilliant! Definitely a step up from a newspaper subscription and a bunch of quills." He checked the price and saw that it was well within their range.

After Harry helped Ron figure out his half of the Muggle money, they went to the nearest counter to pay and saw the employee who they spoke to earlier. "It seems that you didn't need my help after all," she remarked as she took the box from them. "This is lovely. Whenever she hears the song, she'll think of the both of you. She's very lucky to have such thoughtful friends."

Ron exchanged glances with Harry. "Actually," he remarked with a smile, "we're the ones who are lucky to have her."


For those who are wondering, the music box plays the song "Für Elise" by Beethoven.