The Ron Chronicles II: Letters to Hermione

Harry stuffed that traumatising parchment into his pocket without another glance. He was just in time as Ron came running into the living room and skidded to a stop before Harry.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed a little too loudly, with just a little too much of a guilt garnish. "Do you fancy helping Fred, George and me in the garden for a bit?"

Harry swallowed deeply at the lump of bile in his throat. He shook his head in a vain attempt to shift the disturbing pictures of his two best friends doing.... things...

"Er...ok," he said finally. He hoped fervently that some back-breaking manual labour might stop him from feeling quite so troubled.

Harry stood up and walked out of the living room. Throwing a glance back at Ron he saw the redhead searching through the sofa. Ron then stood up with his hands on his hips and wore a confused expression as he stared at the cushions on the sofa. Harry resumed his trek to the outdoors and could not help the faint smile, or the faint shiver, that came to him.

"Er, Harry," Ron shouted after his friend as he reached the back door, "I don't suppose you found a piece of... never mind."

Harry walked out of the back door and over to Fred and George, who were huddled conspiratorially by the fence. They quickly stopped talking as Harry advanced and smiled charmingly at him. When they saw his troubled expression, however, they began to look slightly concerned.

"What's up, Harry?" asked Fred as he gave Harry a good natured pat on the back.

Thinking of the consequences for poor Ron, Harry put on a happy face and said, "Oh, nothing. I was just remembering some Potions homework that I still have to do."

The twins didn't look entirely convinced, however, so Harry began a tirade on the injustices of Snape and his god-awful homework. Fred and George couldn't help but to nod their heads in agreement. Shortly, they were even adding their own humorous touches and making Harry forget all about the parchment in his pocket.

"Once," said Fred sagely, "he rested his hand on the back of his neck before he talked to me."

George snorted slightly and nodded as he remembered the tale. "Then he put his hand on Fred's parchment," he chipped in enthusiastically, "and the whole thing went see through with the grease!"

Fred chortled loudly and put his hand to his stomach to dull the laughter pains. "See through!" he guffawed so loudly that Ron came tearing out of the house with a look of panic on his features.

Harry saw the look of panic on Ron's face. Ron's mouth opened.

"W-w-w-what h-happened?" he stuttered.

The twins looked at their brother in curiosity and started to say something. Before they could speak, Harry walked a few paces away and pulled a gnome from the ground, spun it a bit and threw it in George's direction.

The now angry and dizzy gnome reached George's leg and took a terrific bite.

"ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Oi, Harry!" Fred exclaimed. "What did you do that for?"

"Sorry," mumbled Harry.

Ron looked at his best friend quizzically. Harry could see that he was trying to figure out what was going on. At this point, however, Ron would be so mortally embarrassed at what Harry had read that he would want to curl up and die. Harry merely shrugged and wandered over to the next gnome.

Gnome after gnome, the boys worked through the garden. Ron kept shooting Harry worried looks but Harry kept his mouth firmly shut. Not only would Ron be embarrassed, but so would Harry. No, the best course of action was to be quiet and hope to find no more letters like the last. He pulled up the last gnome, spun about and threw it over the fence. He drew a hand across his sweaty brow and followed the Weasley boys inside, where Mrs. Weasley was waiting with fresh lemonade.

Harry gulped his lemonade down thirstily, finishing in record time. He looked down at his clothes and realised that he was covered in dirt and the greenish blood of a gnome that decided to bite its legs off in a last ditch bid for freedom.

Harry excused himself and dashed upstairs to get changed. He pulled open his trunk and saw a piece of parchment stuffed behind it.

"Not again," he muttered as he pulled the paper out and read it. For some reason, a sick fascination forced him to read what was written on the paper.

Dear Hermione,

I love you.

From Ron

Harry relaxed his tensed shoulders and eased onto the bed. A small smile played about his lips. Now that wasn't so bad, really. Ron should write more like that. Absently, Harry put the parchment into his pocket and pulled out new clothes.

While Harry was sifting through his trunk for a clean pair of socks, another parchment caught his eye. It was balled up on the floor, underneath Ron's bed. "How many did you write, Ron?" he asked nobody in particular with a slight hint of irritation.

He chewed his lip and picked it up, silently wondering whether he had some sort of compulsion.

"A poem," he murmured. "Interesting."

Love is strange,

Love is funny,

Get here Hermione

And be my love bunny

Harry groaned inwardly. Still, it wasn't too bad. He stuffed the poem in his trunk, grabbed a pair of socks and closed the lid. He wandered out of Ron's room and down the stairs. As he turned the corner to go down the next flight of stairs, trying desperately not to look anywhere, Pigwidgeon flew past his ear in a twittering, fluttering ball of noise.

The small owl careened past Harry and hit a picture of one of Ron's relatives, who didn't quite manage to duck in time and looked rather peeved. As the picture swung, a piece of parchment fluttered to the floor.

Harry was caught halfway between laughing hysterically and bawling like a baby as he stooped down to pick it up.

His hands unfolded the parchment with a mind of their own. Harry's eyes were closed but once the paper was completely open, they opened of their own accord. 'Et tu Brute?'

Hermione have I told you

How much I want to hold you?

Make you my wife

For the rest of my life

And together we'll grow very old too

Harry blinked. Well now, that was quite sweet really. No nightmares from that little bit. Ron could be very sweet if he wanted. Hearing footsteps around the corner Harry put the limerick in his pocket and continued down the stairs.

He managed a chuckle as he realised that his best friend was actually rather poetic. With all of the pieces of parchment that he had collected, he could almost bind together a book. Maybe he should do that and send it all to Hermione. He wondered abstractly whether she would enjoy it or whether she would be violently ill.

His hand brushed the banister as he turned the final corner of the stairs and dragged out another piece of parchment. He goggled at his hand, not quite able to believe what he had found.

He sighed and opened the parchment.

Hermione I want you so badly

But you went for Viktor Krum, sadly

Please dump that baboon

And be with me soon

So that we can make love very madly

Harry simply stared at the limerick. He felt laughter bubbling up from his stomach. When he could no longer contain it he sat down on the bottom step and laughed outright, stuffing the parchment in his pocket at the same time. Tears trickled down his face and Harry strove valiantly to wipe them away and stop the laughter.

Ron came barrelling around the corner. He caught sight of his best friend and gasped loudly.

"Harry!" he cried. "Why on earth are you crying? What's wrong?" He had a slight look of panic on his face, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do. This, however, only served to make Harry's laughter worse.

"N-n-nothing!" he gasped. "Just a bit of a spasm. I'm j-just s-so happy I'm h-here is all."

Ron gave Harry a look of disbelief and shook his head. "Well, if you say so, mate. Er...I'm glad you're here too."

Harry nodded and Ron studied him for a moment before walking away. Harry's hysteria increased and he laughed for the next ten minutes. He earned several funny looks and a few questions but he answered none.

After he had managed to calm down, the family sat down to dinner together. At various points throughout the meal, he could feel a bubble of laughter rising up within him, which he hastily repressed.

Once they had all finished eating, they retired to the living room together. Before Harry sat down, he offered to get them all a pot of tea from the kitchen.

Harry returned to the kitchen and opened up the Weasley-family-sized teapot. Inside, he saw a piece of parchment.

"Come on, Ron!" he said with a sigh. "You need to be a bit more creative with your hiding places."

Harry was completely unprepared for what he now faced. On the parchment was a picture. 'Wow, Ron can draw.' Then he actually LOOKED at the drawing. Two naked people were writhing together on a bed. What exactly they were doing was quite obvious. He looked at the faces. The man's face was hidden against the woman's chest but the face of the woman was unmistakable; frizzy hair, dainty nose...Hermione. In the bottom right hand corner was Ron's messy signature and a single scrawled sentence...'You are my dream.'

"Well," Harry said to himself, "you wanted to make a book, Harry. Now you've got yourself a front cover!"

He put the parchment in his pocket with the other one and made the pot of tea as quickly as he could. He dropped off the teapot and told the family that he was going to bed.

He strode up to Ron's bedroom with a definite purpose: he was going to put a stop to this once and for all.

Harry threw open his trunk and rummaged through it and his dirty trousers from earlier. He pulled out every scratch of parchment he had found that day and bundled them together with the drawing on the very top. He tied it all together with brown string and set it neatly on Ron's desk.

When Ron entered, predictably, five minutes later Harry stood beside the desk with his arms crossed. Harry indicated the bundle on the desk with a wave of his hand. He watched as it dawned upon Ron that he was actually looking at his own handiwork. His entire head went so red that Harry thought that he might explode.

"Ron," he said quietly, "I saw nothing. I read nothing. I remember nothing. This never happened and we will never speak of this again." He nodded his head decisively and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Ron nodded uncertainly and sat down beside Harry. "So...how about them Cannons?"

Harry grinned.