Another Ruddy Ball

Chapter 3

~*~*~*~

Ron squeezed his eyes shut, terrified of what Hermione might say to him now that he'd finally asked her out. He waited for her to answer him, waited at least a minute before he opened his eyes tentatively, looking at her in concern. She was staring at him, mouth partly opened, shock written plainly on her face.

"You.. I- Ron, are you being serious?" she asked faintly.

"No, Hermione, I asked you as a joke," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He shook his head and moved to lean against the wall. "Of course I'm being serious."

"Oh, well in that case," she said coolly, her eyes losing their sparkle as she turned and walked into the pub. Pausing at the door, she spat out, "Since you obviously don't know how to ask a girl out properly, there is no way I'm going with you!"

Ron felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach. What the hell did I do this time? he thought, trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat. Shaking his head, he trudged off to the post office. Well, I guess Snape'll be better company now. Why did I have to go and put my foot in it again?

"Ah, Weasley. You're back early," Snape said in surprise as Ron walked back up, alone.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron muttered, not wanting to talk to anyone.

"And what, may I ask, are you doing back so soon? I would have thought you'd rather spend time with your other delinquent friends," Snape said coolly, sounding somewhat smug.

"None of your business, Sir," Ron said snidely, ignoring the sounds of satisfaction coming from Snape's direction.

"Actually, speaking of your.. friends, where is Miss Granger? I would have thought you'd still be drooling over her like a puppy, instead of moping around."

"Leave me alone."

"Suit yourself Weasley, at least you're trying to follow my orders now."

When Hermione returned ten minutes later, she looked haughtily at Ron before pointedly fussing with a shopping bag from the costume shop.

"Oh, Ron, why didn't you come with us to pick out costumes? Maybe you can go by yourself, I'm sure no-one will care," she said in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Exactly, no-one will care. Leave me alone, Hermione," Ron said, trying not to sound as hurt as he felt.

"Well, if that's the way you want it, fine," she sniffed.

"You know what? I don't know what you want from me!" he hissed, looking over his shoulder to see Snape watching with interest. "So I don't know how to ask a girl out.. Big deal! It never mattered to you before! Oh, no, it's only because of this ruddy ball!"

He waited for her answer, but it never came. When he glanced over at her, he saw that she was mouthing something, not paying any attention to him.

"Oh, so you're going to ignore me now?" Still no answer.

"Well fine then! I don't want to talk to you either! Have fun at the ball with whoever you conned into going with you!"

With that, Ron turned and stomped past Snape, taking up a post by the post office doors. The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully, with Snape and Hermione passing him every so often. The only odd thing Ron noted at all was the look Snape gave him every time he passed. It almost looked... sympathetic. It was the worst afternoon of his life.

About an hour before it was time to go back to Hogwarts, Snape stopped right beside Ron and said quietly, "Weasley, I think it's time you took another quick break."

Ron looked up at him, dumbfounded. "Excuse me? You are allowing me another break?"

Bristling slightly, Snape said brusquely, "Your head of house caught up with me about five minutes ago and told me to give you another break. It wasn't my decision."

As he quickly walked away, Ron thought he heard Snape mutter, "I don't know why I did that."

Shaking his head, Ron ran to the costume shop. Well, I guess there's some hope for Snape yet, he thought as he scanned the racks for a costume. After about five minutes of looking, he found the perfect one, and bought it. Well, we'll see what Hermione says when she finds out who I'm going as. She'll never say a bad word about me as Dumbledore! He chuckled as he walked back to his post.

Hermione stared at him as he went past and opened her mouth to say something, but he glared back at her. I'm still angry, don't even try to say anything, Hermione. He shook his head and sighed. I guess I really screwed that up. Now I've just got to get her to not be angry with me.

~*~*~*~

Dinner that night was strained. Ron and Hermione had fallen back on the routine of using Harry as a mediator in the conversation, and Ron at least could see that Harry was going to yell at the two of them soon. Besides, I'm not hungry, anyway. Bugger, that seems to happen a lot lately.

"Harry, I'm not feeling the greatest, I think I'm going to go see Madame Pomfrey," he lied, pushing away his plate and getting up. "I'll talk to you when I get back to the common room."

He left before anyone could say a word, and wandered aimlessly through the halls. It was only when he saw the door to the Room of Requirement appear that he realized his wanderings hadn't been so aimless after all. Glancing around to make sure no-one had spotted him, he stepped up to the door and opened it, stepping inside a dimly lit room with an armchair and hundreds of photos.

Ron looked around, confused, then examined some of the photos. To his surprise, the photos were all taken from his memory, things that had happened between him and Hermione, and Harry. The ones that he saw most, however, were of every single moment he and Hermione had been together, alone. With a rueful smile, he took down one that showed them at the Order's Headquarters the year before. It had been during Christmas holidays, the night before in fact, and neither of them could sleep, he remembered.

That was one of the best nights of my life, he thought with a bittersweet smile. He watched, pain flaring in his chest, as the Hermione in the picture glanced up and blushed pointing at the mistletoe above their heads. His picture self blushed and muttered something, the two figures in the picture leaning towards each other to share a brief, sweet kiss. My first kiss, Ron thought, and now look at us. I finally get up the courage to ask her out, finally realize how I feel, and she laughs at me, turns me down. It's not fair!

He started to feel the beginnings of a red-hot rage building inside him and he threw the picture across the room. "It's not fair! It's not bloody fair!" he yelled, smashing the closest pictures. "I HATE THESE RUDDY BALLS!"

But you want to go, a voice said matter-of-factly.

"No, I DON'T!" Smash!

But you do. You want to go with her.

"She doesn't want me." His voice was starting to break as he said these words, the rage that had taken a hold of him draining out to be replaced by a profound hurt.

You don't know that.

"But it's true, I could never be good enough for her. She practically said so," he whispered, as a lump formed in his throat. He swallowed hard and looked around the room at his memories; some good, some not so good, but all of them with him and Hermione there, best friends. His eyes landed on one in particular, from after their trip to the Ministry. He had been almost asleep when Hermione sat down by his side, talking to him in a whisper.

"I'm glad you're still alive, even if you can't hear me right now. Merlin knows what I would do if you had died." She took his hand, partially wrapped in bandages, and he tried not to show that he was awake. It must have worked. "Ron, you have to get better soon. Please. Don't die like Sirius did."

Hearing the tears in her voice, Ron almost opened his eyes right then, to comfort her, when she hugged him. Not knowing what to do, he just went on pretending to sleep. She went back to her own bed after she pulled away, leaving an unmistakable tingling from where her arms had just been.

Swallowing hard as the memory finished playing itself out, Ron shook his head and muttered, "That doesn't prove anything, she would've done the same with Harry. She kissed both of us, didn't she?"

Oh, give over Weasley! You want her, and you fancy her. Hell, you might even love her, if you'd stop denying what you're feeling and really THINK!

Ron sighed and got up. I need to get this place cleaned up, he thought. Immediately, everything was gone. He shook his head and left for the common room. As he trudged along, he thought he heard whispering behind him. He looked around and there was nobody there; except some portraits of whispering people. Ron smirked and walked on, ignoring them. Ruddy gossipers.

When he got to the common room, it was already empty again. This is too much like last night. He saw that the lamps and torches were all turned down very low, and the fire was getting low as well. How long was I gone? Checking his watch, Ron saw that it was close to midnight.

"Wow.." he muttered, then heard a rustling sound from over by the couch. He whirled around to see Crookshanks staring at him, eyes gleaming slightly. "Oh, it's just you."

Crookshanks meowed, then picked something up in his teeth as he walked over. Ron bent down to see what it was and let out a shout when Crookshanks dropped the spider on his trainers.

"Crookshanks, you little beast! Stop doing that!"

Crookshanks growled defiantly and, sticking his tail in the air, turned and sauntered up the girls' stairs.

"Bloody cat." Ron shook his head and kicked the spider away, freezing when he heard soft laughter coming from the couch.

"Ron, you just don't get it, do you?" Hermione said haughtily.

"Don't get what? How your blasted cat likes to bother me? Yeah, I think I've noticed that," Ron muttered, heading for the stairs.

"No, Crookshanks is just trying to be helpful."

"Oh, alright. You mean how you were helpful today when you said I should learn how to ask a girl out? I thought we were friends, you should know I can't do anything properly! Can't you take a joke?" he said, getting louder until he was practically shouting. "Bloody women, nothing ever makes you happy!"

He turned on his heels and ran up the stairs, fighting back the scream of frustration that threatened to tear out of him. Unfortunately, just as he got to the top step, he tripped over one of his shoelaces and fell down the stairs to land in a heap at the bottom.

"Ow.."

"Ron, are you always this clumsy?" Hermione said worriedly. She rushed over to him and helped him up, sighing.

"Only around you," he muttered, half grinning a bit at the joke.

"Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey's."

"Fine.."

"What, do you want to bruise?"

"No."

"Then stop being a baby."

"Yes, mother," Ron said with a grin.

"Ron!" Hermione slapped him playfully and then shook her head. "Don't make me drag you, hurry up."

Ron obediently sped up, then winced at the sharp pain in his right hip and slowed right back down. "Uh, Hermione, I can't. I think I did something to my hip."

"Oh..."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as they made their way slowly to the hospital wing. When they finally got their, Madame Pomfrey made such a fuss over him that Ron refused to even look at Hermione. Crikey, this bat's worse than Hermione!

Ten minutes later..

"Now, I want you to drink this tomorrow morning if your hip still hurts. And either don't run around anymore, Mr. Weasley, or do something about those shoelaces!" Mme. Pomfrey said in an exasperated voice. She waved her hands at the two and yawned. "Now shoo, both of you. I'd like to get some shut eye and you have classes tomorrow."

With that, she bustled away, slamming the door of her office behind her. Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a long moment.

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to speak, Ron burst out, "You happy now? I got a reprimand for being a prat, and you get to just laugh it up and add that to the list of all my shortcomings."

He stormed out of the hospital wing, anger starting to rise again.

"Ron! What are you talking about?" Hermione said, running to catch up with him.

"Nothing."

"That is not nothing, Ron."

"Well, does it really matter? I mean, you've got the Boy-Who-Lived as your best friend, you're dating a famous quidditch player, and so of course you can't be happy for your other best friend when something good happens to him," Ron spat. He pointed a finger at her, unaware that his voice was rising, and said, "And then, when I finally have a girl interested in me, you somehow manage to make her hate me! You didn't want me to be prefect, you were downright patronizing when I first became Keeper, and then you didn't even show up at my one decent game last year!"

Throughout his whole tirade, she just stood there, staring wide-eyed at him.

"Not to mention you've been distant all year, and make me feel like the biggest git ever to walk the earth, and then insult me when I can't seem to properly ask you to the ball, which I don't think I even want to go to now if it's going to be this much fun!" Ron backed up a couple steps, tears starting to prick his eyes as he shouted. "If you think I'm that horrible, go find someone else to rip apart, because I've had it."

He clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified at what he'd just said. Oh gods, now she's going to think I hate her! What have I done? As the tears he was trying so hard to blink back started to fall, he turned and ran, leaving Hermione standing in the hallway.