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be11atrixthestrange · 2 months

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The Loft 8

After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.

Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’

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Also on A03 | FFN

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In a crazy turn of events, I updated The Loft after 2 years... :)

Chapter 8

A watched egg never cooks. Is that the saying? Ron doesn’t know — he’s terrible at idioms and shit. If it’s not a saying, it’s definitely accurate.

He stands in front of the stove, waiting for his egg to fry. It’s taking forever, and he’s tempted to just leave it there, but maybe then he’d burn the whole loft down. That, or Vicky would eat it.

Vicky’s here this morning, just like he was here yesterday morning. And the morning before that. It almost feels like they have another roommate, one that doesn’t pay rent and that Ron didn’t choose. Well, he didn’t choose Hermione either, but that worked out. Sort of.

Ever since Hermione and Victor became ‘official’, they’ve spent almost every waking moment together. Ron comes home after work, Krum is here. He wakes up in the morning, Krum is still here. The only time Krum seems to spend outside of the apartment is between the hours of 9-5, and one hour at night, 8-9 pm, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Whenever Ron has asked where he goes, he gets all weird and quiet. Whenever he asks Hermione, she doesn’t seem to know or care.

“Honestly, Ron, it’s important for couples to spend time apart.”

“But Hermione, do you know where he goes?”

“No, because I respect his privacy.”

Why is Vicky the only one in this loft entitled to privacy? He often wonders when someone empties the laundry machine and leaves a trail of socks and underwear across the living room floor, or late at night when he can hear his roommates’ beds creaking, knowing they brought home a companion, a poor soul who has no idea how thin the walls are.

It begs the question, what kind of dark shit is Krum getting up to between the hours of 8 and 9pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays if he can’t even tell his girlfriend about it?

Maybe he has an embarrassing hobby. Or a gambling addiction. Or a second girlfriend.

Ron tries to ignore his heart’s fluttering in response to the last thought. What sort of friend would hope for that kind of thing?

“You might want to turn the stove on,” comes a gruff voice, interrupting Ron’s thoughts. “Or your egg will never cook.”

With a groan, Ron flicks on the burner.

“Are you okay?” asks Krum as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter. “You seem distracted.”

Ron glances back at his unwelcome roommate. His thick robe hangs loosely around his waist, forming a deep v neck that exposes Krum’s chiseled pecs and chest hair. Why can’t the dude just cover himself up a bit?

“M’fine.”

“Okay then. Look, I’m going to be out of town for the weekend—”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” interrupts Ron.

“Sorry?”

“You don’t even live here, so you don’t have to tell us when you’ll be out.”

Ron keeps his back to Krum as he lets the awkward pause wash over. Sure, maybe he should be nicer to the guy, but someone should gently tell him he’s overstaying his welcome. Hermione won’t.

“I was just going to ask if I could keep my car out front. Sometimes I get towed if I leave it out at my apartment—”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“Great,” says Krum as he rises to his feet and turns back toward Hermione’s room. “Thanks.”

“Where are you going this weekend?”

“Nowhere.” The sound of Hermione’s door closing punctuates Krum’s response.

Hmm. Very odd.

Moments later, Harry appears from his bedroom door, still disheveled in his pajamas. “What’s got you down?”

“Vicky.”

“What about Viktor?”

“I’m telling you, he’s giving me the creeps.”

Harry chuckles. “Since when?”

“The cabin trip we all went on.”

Harry lets a full laugh escape, as he responds. “You’re ridiculous. He never bothered you before.”

“I think he’s cheating on Hermione.”

Harry’s eyes narrow and glances toward Hermione’s bedroom. “She doesn’t deserve that, but how do you know?”

“Gut feeling.”

“Ron—”

“I think if I went to his place, I’d find proof.” Ron raises an eyebrow at his friend, who violently shakes his head.

“No.”

“Please come with me? I’ll give you free beer.”

“No. Plus you always give me free beer.”

Ron shrugs. “I’m going alone then. He’ll be out of town this weekend, and it’s the perfect opportunity to just check in.”

Harry groans. “You’re going to force my hand aren’t you?”

“Just come with me and make sure I don’t do anything unreasonable?”

“Going in the first place is unreasonable.”

“Still gonna do it.”

Ron knows that Harry can’t resist a little bit of mischief, so all he has to do is wait him out. Ninety percent of the unreasonable things Ron has done in his life have involved his best friend.

Like clockwork, Harry raises an eyebrow. “Okay. When are you going?”

“Tomorrow morning, after Krum leaves town.”

Harry groans. “You know this is a terrible idea?”

“Yes. But I don’t care.”

“We’re not going to do anything illegal, right?”

Ron imagines what exactly they’ll do tomorrow — show up at Krum’s apartment and just open the door? If Vicky’s dumb enough to leave his door unlocked while he’s out of town, then sure. But he’s definitely not dumb. If he was, Hermione would be staying far far away from him, and yet, here they are. It won’t be the first time Ron has snuck into a window. He was a horny teenager with a girlfriend and strict parents before, and crowbars are quite effective.

“No, of course we won’t do anything illegal.”

Harry nods. “Then fine,” he says, the reluctance in his voice rather light.

“Knew I could count on you.”

It doesn’t take long for Ron and Harry to locate Viktor’s address — the internet is a wonderful invention. They pull up to his street and emerge from the car. On Ron’s back is a bag equipped with a crowbar, a rope, and a clipboard. Ron’s found that holding a clipboard is the best way to look like you’re supposed to be there.

“None of this makes sense, mate.”

“Sure it does.”

As Ron shuffles along the pavement of an unfamiliar neighborhood, Harry trots behind him in an effort to keep up.

“You have no evidence that he’s cheating.”

“That’s why we’re doing this. To find some.”

“Ugh.”

Harry and Ron eventually stumble to the front porch of Viktor Krum’s duplex. It is larger than expected, but slightly run-down. The grass in the front lawn needs to be mowed, and on the front porch sit two pots that once housed plants, maybe. By the looks of it, no one has watered them in years. The paint is peeling off of the siding, and one of the stairs on the front stoop has rotted through. Even though their loft is still rather dumpy, Viktor’s makes it look like a castle.

“No wonder he’s always staying at our apartment.”

Ron peers around to the side of the house. A cracked window reveals an unmade bed inside. From his research, Ron knows that Krum lives in the first apartment on the left.

“We’re going in through the window.”

“Breaking and entering, cool,” grumbles Harry.

“Just entering. No need to break.”

Harry and Ron tiptoe across the overgrown grass and when they reach the window, it takes both of them to wedge it up high enough for them to fit through. Harry props Ron up and he slithers head-first into Viktor Krum’s bedroom. Harry follows, and both boys land in a thud on the carpet of the darkened room.

“You’d think he’d be able to afford a nicer place,” says Ron.

“Maybe he’s saving for an engagement ring or something,” sniggers Harry.

“Fuck mate, why would you say that?”

“To watch you squirm.”

Harry and Ron get to searching Krum’s apartment, flipping over couch cushions and rummaging through bookshelves looking for something — anything — that might belong to a girl who isn’t Hermione. Jewelry, clothing, makeup, perfume. One sniff and Ron would surely be able to tell if the perfume is hers.

“What’s this?” Harry’s voice travels from a smaller room attached to the living area. Ron peers inside to find a cluttered desk next to a bookshelf. Lining the shelf is a collection of Agatha Christie and Stephen King novels, and writing utensils galore. Harry is standing at the desk with a thick binder in his hands. “I think it’s a story.”

“Let me read it.” Ron yanks the binder from Harry’s hands and turns to a random page.

“She was dead. So very dead. The way her bushy brown hair splayed across the ground and nearly blended in with the fallen leaves made her look so natural in that state, like she was finally at peace. But her eyes were open, revealing the look of shock in her face. But there was something else there. Recognition. Betrayal.

Her hand still clutched the stab wound in her stomach, and Special Agent Reid knew that her stomach lining wasn’t the only thing that had recently been broken. So had her heart.

Clearly, she knew her killer. And most likely, if statistics proved to be true — and Spencer Reid always trusted statistics — it was her lover.”

“What the fuck is this?” splutters Ron.

Harry laughs. “I don’t know, but I’d be embarrassed if someone found that at my desk. I think he’s just writing. Special Agent Reid is a character on Criminal Minds.”

“Yeah, and the dead girl with bushy brown hair is clearly Hermione.”

“It appears to be fanfiction.”

Who the fuck writes fanfiction? “Oddly specific fanfiction.”

“I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about,” shrugs Harry. “It’s probably just a creative outlet.”

“She was killed by her lover, Harry.”

“We should probably go,” says Harry. “I’m nervous someone saw us sneaking in here, and we can’t find what we’re looking for.”

Can’t find what we’re looking for? What the fuck is he talking about? “Harry, we’ve found something much worse than what we’re looking for.”

“Fanfiction?”

“No, evidence that he thinks about killing Hermione.”

“He doesn’t think about that, Ron. He’s just writing.”

“Why aren’t you more concerned about this?”

“Honestly?” Harry shrugs. “Because he’s not a bad guy. He treats Hermione well. He’s kind. And we just discovered an embarrassing secret of his and should probably keep it to ourselves.”

“Don’t you think we should tell her and let her decide if it’s concerning?”

“Hermione’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.”

Ron sighs. He pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the open page of Krum’s story. “Well I’m going to tell her.”

“How are you going to explain why we were in his apartment?”

“Dunno.”

“Want my opinion, Ron?”

No. Not really. Ron decides not to answer, but Harry continues anyway.

“Leave her alone. It really feels like you want him to be cheating on her. Or to, I dunno, be plotting to murder her.” He gestures to the binder when he emphasizes the word. “See how ridiculous it sounds when I say it?”

Ron has to admit that Harry has a point.

“I know you care about her, so stop sabotaging your friendship by meddling in her relationship.”

Ron grunts. “When did you become so good at relationships?”

Harry gets a strange look in his eye. “Well, if you must know—”

“No, I don’t need to know,” grumbles Ron, as the memory of Harry and Ginny holding hands flashes across his mind.

“Fair enough,” says Harry with a smile. “Let’s get out of here before we get caught?”

“Yeah,” agrees Ron . Probably a good idea.

Hours later, Ron is cleaning glasses at the Burrow while Harry sits across from him at the bar, picking at a pile of french fries in front of him. “I still can’t believe we snuck into his house.”

“I can,” says Ron with a shrug. Honestly, it felt a lot like storming Cormac for Hermione’s belongings when she first moved in. Some people make Ron want to throw logic out the window.

“You’re an awful influence, Ron.”

No, Hermione’s the awful influence. Ron turns to stack newly washed glasses on the shelf at the back of the bar. He is definitely being unreasonable. Hermione, in no way shape or form, caused him to break into Krum’s apartment. It was his concern for her that did. Because he cares. Plus, even if Harry doesn’t agree, if you ask Ron, they found what they were looking for.

“Hello, roommates.” Hermione’s voice echoes from the front door. It’s only three o’clock, and the bar doesn’t pick up until later, and the lack of people in the room makes Hermione’s presence seem all that much stronger.

“Oh, hi Hermione,” says Ron.

“Hey, Hermione. Good to see ya,” says Harry. “Also, I’m going to be late to meet Gin, so see you back at the loft later—”

“I didn’t know you were hanging out with Ginny today.”

Harry pushes his half-eaten french fries out of the way and rises to his feet. “Bye!”

Hermione takes his empty chair, and both of them watch Harry scuffle out the front door with an extra pep in his step.

“That was weird,” says Hermione with a shrug.

“Yeah.”

She pulls Harry’s plate of french fries closer to her, and plucks at one. “So what did you two do today?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Really? I just didn’t see either of you at the loft.”

Ron avoids her eye contact and shrugs. “Guy stuff.”

“Right,” she says, while she cocks her head to the side, studying him. “So are you working till close?”

“Yep.” Ron feels a pang of guilt at how terse his answers are. Ever since the cabin, he’s been quite short with her. He tells himself he’s just giving her space, but deep down, he knows it goes beyond that.

Hermione persists. “Mind if I hang out here for a while? Obviously Ginny’s busy with Harry and Viktor’s gone for the weekend.”

“Sure,” he says. Then, willing himself to keep the conversation flowing, he adds “You still don’t know where Viktor is this weekend?”

Hermione hesitates before answering. “Just on a trip.”

So she does know where he is? Or maybe she doesn’t and it worries her.

Overwhelmed with a desire to come clean, Ron turns back to her. “Can I tell you something, and you promise you won’t get mad at me?”

Hermione seems to brighten at the fact that his answer is longer than one word. “No, I can’t promise that, Ron. But please tell me.”

Ron groans. He shouldn’t say anything. But he does. “He gives me a weird vibe. Something’s off.”

“Of course he does,” says Hermione, rolling her eyes.

“What does that mean?” asks Ron, his defenses rising.

“Seriously, Ron?” she asks, her voice incredulous. “Tell me, Ron, see that guy in the booth?”

Ron follows her gesture to one of the only other patrons currently in the bar — a middle aged man reading a book and sipping an IPA. “Yes.” “Does he give you a weird vibe?”

“No, not really.”

“If I were to walk over to him and snog him, would he then give you a weird vibe?”

What kind of question is that? “Yes, but because he’s willing to snog a stranger in a bar—”

“You’re not willing to snog strangers at bars?” Ron’s mind darts back to Lavender. Sure, he was willing to snog strangers at bars, but they all know how that turned out.

“Okay, what are you saying?”

“I know we’re dancing around it Ron. It’s the elephant in the room.”

The hair on Ron’s arm tingles as it stands on edge. The last thing he expects is for Hermione to actually name the elephant in the room. Does this mean she’s about to shut him down once and for all? Tell him she’s happy with Krum? And that he should fuck off? Well, Fuck.

“Okay, but—”

“I love being your friend and your roommate, I’m in a stable relationship, and not willing to change that right now.”

Shit.

Hermione continues. “Will Viktor and I marry each other? Probably not. But at this point in my life, this is what I need.”

So, Hermione thinks Ron is pining uncontrollably for her? Is that how it is? “I didn’t break up with Lavender because of you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Does she know, though?

“And that is not why Krum gives me a vibe.”

She laughs. “Okay, why then?”

Ron groans. He really shouldn’t show her. Even if she thinks he found it at the loft, she’d probably just get angry at him for going through his things. But, for some reason, he can’t resist. “I found this today.”

Ron pulls his phone from his pocket and clicks through his photos. When the photo of Krum’s little story surfaces, he slides his phone to her across the bar.

Hermione picks it up and her eyebrows narrow to the text. “Where did you find this, Ron?”

What can he say? On his desk. In his apartment. The one I broke into earlier. “He left it out,” says Ron. It’s technically not a lie.

“That’s an invasion of his privacy,” says Hermione, coldly.

“Does it not concern you?”

Hermione shrugs. “Honestly, no, it doesn’t. He’s already shown me.”

“What?”

Hermione contemplates before giving up more details. “He’s taking a creative writing class, and this was one of his assignments,” she says, gesturing to Ron’s phone. “To write a fanfiction story from his favorite show. And he loves Criminal Minds.”

“Are you serious?” Harry was fucking right.

“Yes, it’s what he does every Tuesday and Thursday night. And that’s where he is now, actually, at a writing retreat.”

“So he’s like… serious about writing?”

Hermione shrugs.

“It doesn’t bother you that you’re the dead girl in that story?”

“Not really, no.”

“And that you were killed by your lover?”

Hermione laughs but shakes her head.

“It’s not very good.” He’s definitely grasping at straws now.

“I know that,” says Hermione. Ron’s pleasantly surprised that she agrees with him.

“Why does he do it?”

“He enjoys it. Isn’t that enough?” Finishing off Harry’s old fries, Hermione wipes her hand on a napkin. “Can I have a cream ale?”

“Sure,” says Ron as he reaches for a pint glass. “So you’re confident that he doesn’t want to kill you?”

Hermione laughs. “No, he doesn’t, thank god.”

“He’s not going to break your stomach lining and then your heart?”

“Okay,” groans Hermione. “Don’t be mean.”

Ron hands her the dripping cream ale. She smiles and takes it from him, her cheeks tinging pink with what Ron presumes is secondhand embarrassment. Honestly, it’s quite nice that she supports him, even though his hobby is a bit weird. It’s what Ron would call a green flag. Krum is a lucky bastard.

“My heart isn’t breakable right now, anyway,” she adds, before taking a sip of the foam layer at the top of her beer.

Ron cocks an eyebrow.

“Still have too many walls up, you know.”

“Oh I know, you’re a total ice queen.”

Hermione laughs, and Ron feels himself relax. It was a tough few days of not speaking freely with her.

“Thank you for talking to me. I missed having you as my friend,” she says.

The way she emphasizes friend sits strangely with Ron. As though she’s dictating the specific role she wants him to play right now. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite like being friendzoned, and he can’t figure out why. There’s something temporary about the way she says friend.

Or is he reading way too much into that? He doesn’t want to be her friend. And yet, he loves being her friend. How does that even make sense?

“Right,” says Ron, cautiously. “So if I wanted to write bad fanfiction, would you support me? As a friend?”

“Of course!” says Hermione cheerfully. “I’d beta read for you.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll take up the habit. Show you I have other talents besides giving you free beer and being your attractive roommate.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, yet a smile graces her lips. “I bet you’d be a good writer,” she says as she gulps down the last of her beer.

“Maybe you’ll find out. Want another beer?”

“Sure!”

Ron pulls her glass away and refills it under the tap. This is definitely the weirdest friendship he has. But he’ll play along.

For now.

It is far too late when Ron finally makes it home from the bar, and as much as he wants to sleep, he’s too wired from his conversation before. He strips down to his boxers and collapses into the bed. Although he would love to continue talking with Hermione, there are no signs of life in any of the bedrooms, so it’s a safe bet that everyone in the loft is asleep.

Ron turns to his side and reaches his phone on his bedside table. Without a second thought, he starts typing away. Hopefully Hermione has her text notifications on silent. There is no reason she can’t have two story tellers in her life.

“She was about 5’6, had brown eyes, and wore a Hamilton t-shirt. She loved to watch romantic comedies and was a total coffee snob, even though she couldn’t tell the difference between a cappuccino and a latte. Her sultry gaze and bushy brown hair splayed wildly out at all angles, making her appear like a sexy medusa. In fact she could turn you rock hard in an instant. She had her whole life ahead of her. Or so she thought…”

Before he can overthink it, Ron presses send.

His heart rate quickens as he stares at his message. She’s asleep, so there is no way she’ll see it until tomorrow morning—

Then, three little dots appear at the bottom of his screen, and his palms begin to sweat. Oh shit.

“Oh my god, Ron, what is this?”

Well, he’s committed now.

“Little did she know, her life as she knew it was about to end. In walked a man, about 6’5, bright red hair, and a pale, yet chiseled adonis-like body. Nothing like her current boyfriend, but everything she wished her current boyfriend could be. He didn’t waste time writing fanfiction and playing sports, and instead crafted beautiful cocktails from the basement dive bar, was quite broke, and regularly forgot to do his laundry. Like a REAL MAN.”

Hermione is quicker to respond this time. “You’re ridiculous. But keep going please.”

Yes, ma’am. “And he wasn’t just a sex god. He was also a… dun dun dun… MURDERER.”

“LMAO. This is so mean. But I’m laughing so hard.”

Ron continues typing away. “She knew all of this. And yet, she still wanted him. She didn’t care if it was her last night on earth, because she knew it would be her best night on earth. And that was all she needed.”

“OMG now you’re getting carried away.”

She’s not wrong, yet something urges him to keep going. “She entered his apartment, so he could enter HER.”

Yeah, maybe he is getting carried away, but it’s fun, so what’s the harm? Plus, she promised to support his creative writing journey.

While waiting for Hermione’s response, Ron’s bedroom door bursts open, and Hermione stomps across the room. Her face is flushed and Ron can tell she is trying to hide a smile. “Phone, please?” she asks, her arm extended.

“No, I’m writing a story!”

Hermione stands her ground. “You’ve lost your phone privileges.”

“But I’m going to be the next Stephen King.”

Hermione lets out a laugh and dives onto the bed, wrestling his hand for his phone. She braces her knees on either side of him, pinning him between her legs. Ron makes a show of struggling, but as much as he wants to keep her there forever, he eventually lets her win.

“Fine,” he says, handing over his phone.

It only takes a moment for them to pause, limbs entangled, for Ron’s mind to run wild. How easy would it be for him to turn the moment serious? He could wrap an arm around her waist and pin her to him. He doubts she’d resist. She has a boyfriend, but she also seems surprisingly comfortable with her arms draped around Ron’s body. She knows he’s only wearing boxers under the covers, right?

They linger there for a moment that solidifies Ron’s inkling from before. She bites her lip, her eyes dart down toward the covers. The way she doesn’t immediately jump off of the bed when she notices that he’s in his underwear suggests that the friendzone is an arbitrary construct.

Ron steadies his voice in an effort to hide his rising heart beat. “Careful, Hermione. I’m a sex god with a habit for murder.”

Yeah, took one second for him to fuck that up.

“I fucking hate you,” she says, as she wrangles herself back up, his phone in her hand. “You are most definitely not a killer.”

Yeah, it took one second for him to fuck that up. However, Ron’s stomach flutters at the sound of her swearing. She hardly ever cusses, only when she’s with him. “Right, but am I a sex god?”

Hermione laughs. “I wouldn’t know, would I?”

Ron raises an eyebrow. “Care to find out?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have had that whiskey shot at the end of his shift. He’s acting a bit too bold.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Her answer echoes in Ron’s mind. He doesn’t miss the way Hermione averts her gaze, and her cheeks flush red.

“I know. We’ve established that.” Then, with a inhale to gain courage, he adds, “But if you didn’t?”

Maybe Ron imagines it, but a look flashes across her eyes, and the corners of her lips turn up in a smile. She shakes her head as if to halt the beginning of a fantasy before it runs wild. “I really should sleep. Goodnight, Ron.”

“Night, Hermione.”

Ron grins as she turns and leaves the room, fully aware that she never answered his question.

#be11a loft #romione #ron and hermione #ron x hermione #hermione granger #hpromione #ron weasley #angst #ronweasley #romione fanfic #hp fanfic #muggle au #slow build #slow burn

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umbridgesshit · 1 year

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remus: you're annoying

sirius: then stop holding my hand

remus: no

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moekonoira · 2 years

Photo

Harry and Ron having a date in Hogsmeade

#ron weasley #harry potter #ronarry #hp #hprw #rwhp #rarry #ron/harry #ron weasley defense squad #harry/ron #harrypotter #ronweasley

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lousypotatoes · 28 days

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Sweet Dreams—George Weasley

Y/N Witherford, a quiet yet determined girl. Living with her mother and stepfather, her only escape is Harry, Ron, Hermione, muggle music and books, and a certain red haired prankster.

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This is my first attempt at fanfiction so bare with me. This book contains cussing, abuse (physical and emotional) and toxic relationships with parents. I will be putting warnings at the beginning of each chapter, but if these topics trigger you, then please don't read. I will be following the book storyline. I'm starting off with the third book, but there will be mentions of the previous books, and I'll be showing how they all met each other. I hope you enjoy <33

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This chapter takes place in The Sorcerer's Stone

N/N stands for nick name

Part 2 Part 3

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I Wanna Be Your Lover-Prince

That was the song that was playing on your Walkman as you sat in the large compartment, waiting for the Hogwarts Express to start moving.

Going against your mothers wishes, you packed the muggle device in your suitcase. If your stepfather found out you even had the Walkman in your possession, he would be furious and he would punish you severely. You shuddered at the thought.

You were grateful you wouldn't see him for the next 9 months.

I wanna be your lover

I wanna be the only one that makes you come running

I wanna be your lover

As you started to sing the chorus, the door to the compartment started to open. Panicking, you hurriedly took off the headset, and shoved it under your seat, not wanting anyone to see you with it.

In the doorway stood a lanky boy who looked to be about 13, with dark hair and freckles. A Weasley, no doubt. You had heard your stepfather talk about the Weasleys in a way that made you blood boil. You personally had never met any of the Weasleys, but you knew enough about them just by how much your stepfather talked about them.

"The wizarding world would be much better off without scum like the Weasleys. They're the biggest blood traitors out there. Lucious was saying that they need to be put in their place, and I one hundred percent agree." He would say.

"Sorry to bother you, but have you seen a tarantula anywhere? A friend of mine brought it with him and now we can't find it." the red-haired boy said, eyeing where your Walkman sat under your seat. "Whatcha got there?"

"Uh nothing...and no I haven't seen a tarantula. Sorry." you said, gently kicking the headset further back.

"I don't believe you in the slightest. Whatever it is, I promise I won't tell. I pinky promise." He said holding his pinky outstretched towards you.

You giggled at the gesture "You should at least tell me your name before you start making serious promises like that."

"Oh of course, where are my manners," he said sitting down next to you. "I'm George Weasley. First year at Hogwarts?" he asked.

"I'm Y/N Witherford, and yeah it is." you said sheepishly. "I'm guessing it's your second year?"

"Third actually. Now show me what you're hiding under your seat pretty please."

"Fine. But you have to promise not tell anyone."

"I pinky promise," he said extending his pinky out. You hesitantly interlocked your pinky with his.

"This is so embarrassing," you muttered as you slowly started to get the Walkman from under your seat.

"George? George! Where the bloody hell are you?" came a voice from the hallway.

"Ahh, that's my brother calling for me," he said as he got up. "Will you show me what it is another time?"

"If you play your cards right, maybe," you said, grinning up at him.

He grinned back, "Excellent, see you later N/N." he said as he went back out in the hallway.

No one had ever called you that in years, the only person who ever called you that was your mother, but that was before she got married to your stepfather. You were left sitting there confused.

Seeing this as an opportunity, you got your headset out and put it back on. But as soon as you pressed the play button, the compartment door started to open. Again, you took it off and shoved it back under your seat.

Not only was there another Weasely standing in the doorway, but there was also a boy with black messy hair and glasses.

"Anyone sitting in here with you? Everywhere else is full." said the Weasley. You shook your head as both of the boys sat across from you. It was silent for a moment.

"Uh I'm Y/N Witherford. It's nice to meet you both." you said awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs.

"I'm Ron. Ron Weasley," Ron said just as awkwardly. It was clear that he felt awkward sitting in a compartment with a girl.

"I'm Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you too." Harry said, a little less awkwardly.

Your eyes widened as he introduced himself. "Are you really Harry Potter?" you asked skeptically.

Harry nodded.

"I know! I didn't believe it at first either I just thought my brothers were messing with me." Ron said excitedly.

"Sorry if I came off as rude, it just surprised me when you introduced yourself, that's all." you said, internally panicking, thinking that you just insulted The Boy Who Lived.

"You didn't come off as rude. I've been getting that reaction a lot lately." Harry said reassuring you.

You breathed a breath of relief in your mind as the Hogwarts Express finally started to move.

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The three of you were currently talking about Chocolate Frog cards and pigging out on Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands and a variety of other magical sweets.

"I think the only wizard I'm missing is Paracelsus. I can't find him anywhere and it's driving me mad." You said chewing on some Droobles Best Blowing Gum. "I swear if I don't find him soon, I'm gonna go insane."

"The only one I'm missing is Agrippa, I think." Ron said, his mouth full of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans.

"How many of these cards are there exactly?" Harry asked, opening up another Chocolate Frog.

"Hundreds at least, "Ron answered, shaking the jellybean box to see if there were any left. "Wanna see a spell my brother taught me?"

"Sure," Harry answered.

Ron dug around in his trunk until he pulled out a battered looking wand. He set the jellybean box on the floor and put is pet rat Scabbers on his lap. Just as he raised his wand, the compartment door opened. A girl with busy hair was standing in the doorway.

"Have you three seen a toad anywhere? A boy named Neville has lost one." She said in a bossy voice. You noticed that she had very large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Ron said, but the bushy haired didn't reply to him. She was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh are you doing magic? Let's see it then." She said as she sat next to you. You slowly scooted a tiny bit away from her.

"Er- alright," Ron said, clearing is throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

You had to hold back your laugh as Ron waved his wand around. Nothing happened to the rat.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" The girl said. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is. I've heard-I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger by the way, who are you three?"

You couldn't comprehend anything that Hermione said. She spoke so fast. You were impressed that this muggle girl had already learned all the course books by heart. You had only skimmed over them.

"I'm Y/N Witherford. It's nice to meet you Hermione," you said, smiling at Hermione. She smiled back.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," Harry said.

"Are you really?" Hermione exclaimed. "I know all about you, of course- I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

You felt bad for Harry seeing Hermione fangirl over him like this. You were sure that Hermione meant no harm, but you saw how uncomfortable Harry got just by the look of his face. Poor Harry.

"Do you three know what houses you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best. I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad.... anyway, I'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon. I hope to see you later Y/N!"

And with that she left.

"Hermione sure does talk a lot," you thought.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she'd not in it," Ron grumbled.

"Oh Ron don't be rude," you said with a slight frown on your face. "She's muggle born, she's bound to be excited about all this wizard stuff."

"She seems a little too excited if you ask me." Ron mumbled

You laughed. "So quick to judge aren't you Ronald, I'm calling you that for now on, I don't care."

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"What's your favorite Quidditch team Ronald?" you asked out of the blue.

"Oh that's easy. The Chudley Cannons of course." Ron answered, puffing out his chest. "They're the best team in the league."

"I hate to disagree with you Ronald, but the best team in the league is actually The Wimbourne Wasps." you said mockingly.

Ron gasped. "How dare you say such a thing. The Wimbourne Wasps are-"

"What's Quidditch?" Harry interrupted.

"Oh sorry Harry, I forgot you were raised by muggles," you giggled. "My bad."

"Just you wait Harry! It's the best sport in the world!" Ron said gleefully.

You and Ron happily explained to Harry what Quidditch was, from the four balls to the positions of the players. You never had the chance to talk about something you were so passionate about, so you were happy that Harry was listening to you and Ron intently.

Suddenly the compartment door opened for the fifth time that day. You were getting a little bit tired of it honestly. Three boys entered the compartment. Two of the boys were big and looked mean. They reminded you of ogres and trolls. You recognized the other one as Draco, Lucious Malfoy's son. Your stepfather and Mr. Malfoy were very good friends, and he had him and is family for dinner quite a few times.

Whenever Draco was over at your house, you would stay as far away from him as you could. You just prayed that he wouldn't recognize you.

"Is it true?" he asked, "They're all saying all down the train that Harry Potter is in the compartment. Is that you?"

"Yes." Harry answered, looking at the two troll looking boys.

Draco saw that Harry was looking at the other guys. "Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," he said, gesturing to the boys. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron coughed, but you knew he was doing that to hide his laugh. Draco glared at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

"Okay Draco, that's enough," you snapped, fed up with how he was acting. You knew that Draco could be rude, but how he treated Ron made your blood boil. It reminded you of your stepfather.

Draco looked at you. "Oh Y/N, what are you doing hanging out with a Weasley?"

"That's none of your business," you spat, "You should really consider how you talk to people, you might gain a reputation."

"Any reputation that you're thinking of would be better than associating with a Weasley," Draco spat back.

"At least I don't have to rely on daddy's money to get me anywhere in life," you said, your voice laced with venom.

"I thought your stepfather raised you better than this Y/N," Draco smirked at you. "I wonder what he would do if he found out that you were hanging out with filth like a Weasley."

Those words made you shut up. Looking over at Ron, you saw that his face was red with anger.

Draco turned to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He said as he held out his hand for Harry to shake.

You were grateful when Harry didn't take it. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." he said.

"I'd be careful if I were you Potter," Draco said slowly, "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and Y/N and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

You and Ron and Harry all stood up, all red in the face.

"Draco if you don't get out, I swear-" you said angrily.

"Or what Y/N?" he sneered. "You'll fight us?"

"Unless you don't get out now," Harry said angrily.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we boys? We've eaten all our food, and you still seem to have some."

"Then buy some more, with daddy's money then," you said mockingly.

Goyle reached for Ron's pile of Chocolate Frogs, Ron leapt forward, but before Ron even touched him, Goyle let out horrible yell that sounded like a banshee.

Ron's rat, Scabbers was hanging off Goyle's finger. Crabbe and Malfoy backed into the hallway as Goyle swung his finger off, trying to get Scabbers off. Finally, Scabbers flew off his finger and hit the train window. All three went back to their compartment as fast as he could.

You doubled over in laughter, "Oh my gosh, that was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time," you said wiping tears from your eyes. "His scream sounded so much like a banshee, it was hilarious."

"How do you know Malfoy, Y/N?" Ron asked suspiciously. Your smile immediately fell from your face.

"His father and my stepfather are good friends," you said darkly. "He comes over to my house for dinner once in a while."

"What was he talking about when he mentioned your stepfather?" Harry asked, a look of concern on his face.

"It's nothing to worry about," you said quickly. "We should probably change into our robes, I expect we'll be there soon."

Ron and Harry looked at each other, looks of skepticism and concern etched onto both of their faces.

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You were nervous as you waited to get sorted. Whenever you got nervous, you would think of the lyrics to Come Together by the Beatles.

You were grateful that you packed up your Walkman while Ron and Harry were changing into your dress robes.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

He got monkey finger, he shoot coca cola

He say, "I know you, you know me"

One thing I can tell you is you got to be free

You looked around and saw George talking to someone who you assumed was his twin brother. He looked over and waved at you, a big smile on his face. You waved back, smiling.

"Granger, Hermione!"

You turned your attention away from George to look at Hermione. The way she jammed the sorting hat on her head made you giggle.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

You heard Ron groan, you elbowed him in the stomach.

As others were called up there, you began to think to yourself. You wanted to be in Gryffindor but you knew you would be in Slytherin. Your whole family including your stepfather was sorted into that house. With the exception of your biological father. You didn't know where he was, let alone what house he was sorted into.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

You paid close attention to Draco as he went up there. The hat had barely touched his head when it shouted "SLYTHERIN!"

You internally groaned. You already knew it was gonna happen, but you were still disappointed none the less.

You began to zone out, when you heard "Potter, Harry!"

You heard whispers all around you as Harry walked up to the stool.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?

Harry was up there for a good minute. It seemed the hat was having trouble deciding where to sort him.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat finally shouted.

You saw Harry grin as he headed off to the Gryffindor table. You began to feel sad, knowing that the only friends you had made would be in different houses. And Ron had already revealed his dislike for Slytherin, that made it even worse.

There were only five people left to be sorted now.

"Thomas, Dean!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Turpin, Lisa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Finally it was Ron's turn, his face was as green as yours, maybe a little bit darker. He looked like he was gonna puke as he went up to the stool.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

You looked over at the Gryffindor table and saw Harry and George clap hard as Ron sat down at the table.

Now there were only 2 people left, you and another boy. You felt like you were gonna pass out.

"Witherford, Y/N!"

You walked to the stool, thinking that your legs were gonna give out. The last thing you saw before the hat blocked your vision was George, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco staring intently at you, waiting to see what house you were gonna be sorted into.

"Hmmm difficult, very difficult," a voice said in your ear. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. "Raised in a Slytherin household, but no Slytherin qualities at all. Very interesting indeed."

The hat took many more moments to think. You were even more nervous at how long it took for the hat to sort you.

Finally after what seemed like hours, the hat decided.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco's look of shook was nowhere near the look of shock on your face. Quickly though, your look of shock turned into a look of glee. You could feel Draco glaring daggers at your back. He would no doubt tell his father about this, and his father would tell your father. But you decided not to worry about that right now.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George all clapped the hardest as you eagerly sat down between Ron and George.

The last student was finally sorted, and everybody quieted down as Professor Dumbledore began to speak.

"You still gonna show me whatever you're hiding?" George whispered to you.

"I promised you didn't I? I never break a promise." you whispered back

Hermione shushed you and you and George stopped talking.

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Oh my lord this took me so long to type out 😭

Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I did making it :)

I'll try to upload as much as I can, co be patient with me.

xoxo, Izzy

#harrypotter #ronweasley #hermionegranger #fredweasley #georgeweasley #georgeweasleyxreader #hogwarts #sorcersersstone #prisonerofazkaban #georgeweasleyfanfic #georgeweasleyxy/n #dracomalfoy

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marsh-750 · 2 years

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Sketch rarry~

#fanart #Ronweasley #harryxron #harron #rarry #Otp #otp: you two have an adorable son #Harry #Shipp #Ronxharry

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the-darling-badger · 1 year

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Ahh yes, the Golden Trio...

Hermione Jean "Now Harry, don't take this the wrong way" Granger

Harry James "There is no other way to take it" Potter

Ronald Bilius "I'm staying out of this" Weasley

#harry potter #harry #hermione #ronweasley #golden trio #hp #gryffindor

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fanfictionforall · 2 months

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Titel: Slytherin Awakening / Dramione

Auteur: RaeMurphy

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Blaise Zabini/Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger

Samenvatting:

Hermione Granger, One-third of the Golden Trio, has returned to Hogwarts to complete her 7th year of magical education. To celebrate the ending of the war, the newly appointed headmistress Minerva McGonagall wishes to promote unity and acceptance among her students. To achieve this she appoints Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy as head prefect and holds a dance to celebrate life and happiness after the darkness of the previous years. But when teenagers, alcohol and dancing mix, mistakes are bound to be made…

Link naar de Fanfictie: Slytherin Awakening | DRAMIONE 🖋 - Rae.Writes.Fantasy - Wattpad

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chuchiotaku · 1 year

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Chapters: 19/21 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ron Weasley & Harry Potter & Hermione Granger & Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley & Weasley Family, Ron Weasley & Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter & Sirius Black & Remus Lupin Characters: Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Weasley Family (Harry Potter) Additional Tags: Ron Weasley-centric, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Smart Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley Angst, minor original characters, Lordship and Noble Houses, Canon Divergence Series: Part 1 of There and Back Again: A Ron Weasley Time Travel Novel Series Summary:

TBA is now officially in AO3!

Year Zero: The Wizarding War

Just when things appeared to be turning around, an unfortunate turn of events lands Ron from the Hogwarts battlefield to a strange place with only Snape, of all people, for company. Because apparently, he is dead. Or at least, very nearly there. But then Ron is given the chance to change his fate: accept death and move to the next great adventure, return to the world of the living at the height of the war, or go further back, for a chance to relive his life and save even more. The question is, what will he have to do in exchange?

Year One: Beginning With A Stone

Ron wakes up on July 1991 with memories of his old life, and a new sense of purpose. On the first year of his new life, the board is set for sweeping changes, new friends and wild discoveries to teach Ron that, even for a time traveler, there is still always more to learn, and something new to experience. Can Ron stay one step ahead of all the surprises awaiting him, and help Harry survive their first encounter with a disembodied but still dangerous Dark Lord?

#harry potter #harrypotterfanfiction #ronweasley #proronweasley #ron weasley defense squad #chuchiotakuwrites #harrypotter tba

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lifeinbrick · 1 year

Photo

"Sir, is it true that liking Harry Potter makes me a transphobe?" "No Ron, just no." THE END.

#hogwartslegacy #lego #harrypotter #legoharrypotter #hogwarts #ronweasley #albusdumbledore #diagonalley #afol #afolphotography #afolcommunity #legostagram #instalego #legophotography #minifigures #minifigurephotography #wizardingworld

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in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine · 7 months

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#harrypotter #ronweasley #harryandron #bestfriends #gryffindor #hogwarts #wizardingworld #magic #friendship #loyalty #bravery #comedy #iconicduo

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watsonfrance · 7 months

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Emma nous montre ce qu'elle a dans son sac à main version 2023 🫶

#emmawatson #emwatson #hermione #hermionegranger #harrypotter #potterfamily #potterheads #potter #watsonheads #watsonhead #danielradcliffe #rupertgrint #ronweasley

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be11atrixthestrange · 3 days

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Guilty as Sin?

Thank you for this song, Taylor <3.

Read on ao3

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I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks

Crashing into him tonight, he's a paradox

I'm seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

The energy that permeated The Three Broomsticks on a Saturday night was one of students that had been cooped up all week. Hermione could barely hear Ginny’s voice through the noise, and even if she could, she probably would have struggled to pay attention. Of course, she was thankful for the invitation even though Hogsmeade weekends weren’t really her thing these days.

Ginny liked to talk about Quidditch and boys. Hermione loved Ginny, but conversations about Quidditch and boys grew tedious after some time. Not that Hermione never thought about Quidditch or boys — in fact, she spent most of her time trying not to.

Hermione stared at the glass in front of her, the honey-like hue of its contents matched the dim light of the bar. She didn’t even like butterbeer that much, but it was something to do with her hands. She reached for the glass, and her fingers made an imprint in the condensation, sending shivers down her spine. Then, she brought it to her lips and took a swig.

The smooth buttery flavor made her mouth water in a way the butterbeer itself couldn’t satisfy.

Unsatisfying. Maybe that’s why she didn’t like butterbeer. It wasn’t quite enough.

Hermione placed her drink back down on the table and turned back to Ginny, only to find she had stopped talking.

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Ginny.

Hermione frowned — it was no secret that she hadn’t been a perfect friend lately. Distracted was an understatement. Ever since Ron and Lavender had gotten together, nothing could cheer her up. Ginny was usually pretty understanding, but maybe her patience was finally running thin. “Sorry, my mind was just wandering.”

“Oh,” said Ginny. “No, I was just looking behind you.”

“Behind me?”

“Yeah.”

Hermione nodded. She didn’t need to look to know what Ginny was referring to. And yet, as if someone else was controlling her body, she swiveled in her chair to confirm.

His bright red hair was unmistakable. It always was. That was usually one of the things Hermione loved about him, but not recently. She couldn’t not see him even if she didn’t want to.

He sat at a table for two near the bar’s entrance, with Lavender across from him. She had clearly styled her hair — her curls looked fresh and sleek, unlike Hermione’s wild and untamed mane. Her face glowed underneath perfect makeup, and her feminine clothing revealed just enough to catch the eyes of men sitting at surrounding tables. But Ron’s eyes seemed glued to the butterbeer in front of him, not Lavender.

Maybe Hermione’s optimistic side was just imagining that.

“Sorry,” said Ginny. “I wouldn’t have suggested The Three Broomsticks if I knew they’d be here.”

“I know,” said Hermione. “It’s okay.”

She couldn’t avoid him forever. Not in person, and definitely not in her mind.

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts

Only your actions talk

That boy had been living in Hermione mind for as long as she could remember, and especially since Lavender laid her paws on him. In fact, that had only made it worse.

It started in their fourth year, when Hermione wondered what would have happened if Ron had asked her to the ball, and not in a last-resort kind of way. As she danced with Victor and felt his hands grace her lower back, she imagined they were Ron’s. She hadn’t meant to, it just happened. She kept her eyes transfixed on Victor’s face, hoping that could erase Ron’s image from her mind, but later that night, when Krum led her out to the gardens, it was too dark to make out the color of his hair. So when he tilted her head back and pressed his lips to hers, it might as well have been Ron. And of course, she closed her eyes, and let her stomach erupt with butterflies — just like it had every time Ron’s gaze had ever lingered on her for a moment too long.

The daydreams intensified in their fifth year. Prefect rounds became a test of her sanity, especially when she was paired with him. Exploring empty classrooms and wandering the dark corridors at night paved the way for fantasies. Every time they opened a door to find a broom closet, she imagined him pulling her in there, pushing her against the wall, his lips on hers, his hands roaming her waist and toying with the hem of her shirt. She wondered what it would feel like to be entangled with him, the heat of his body and breath a delicious contrast to the cold stone wall against her back.

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

The heat of the following summer was a blessing in disguise. As the sun beat down on the Burrow grounds, Hermione had the perfect excuse to wear her shortest shorts and sleeveless tops. She relished in Ron’s gaze on her thighs as they sat out in the grass. She noticed how his eyes grew wide when she stripped down to her bathing suit for a swim in the pond. He spent the entire summer with a glowing sunburn, but Hermione had a feeling that his face would have been crimson red either way.

She spent those summer nights in the camp bed in Ginny’s room, wondering if she’d made a mark on Ron’s mind. She laid awake remembering how his hands trembled when he hugged her, the way he stood closer than usual, and the feeling of his arms as they wrapped around her bare waist when he pulled her off the dock and into the water with him.

Then that split second underwater when their bodies made contact, and his arm stayed locked around her. It took everything she had to resist wrapping her legs around him, and sometimes she wished she hadn’t even tried.

Would he have responded positively? He might have slid his hands up her legs and pulled her tightly against him, before crashing his lips into hers when they resurfaced. She blushed thinking of the way his hips would have felt pressed against her, their mutual desire clear as day.

During those nights at the Burrow, as Hermione’s hand wandered to the drawstring of her pajama bottoms, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was also lying in bed upstairs, wide awake, replaying the summer’s events in his mind. Maybe, like Hermione, the fact that he wasn’t alone in the room was the only reason his hand behaved, unmoving, leaving him to wonder what it would feel like to have her in bed with him.

It was entirely possible.

These fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath

Taking all of me, we've already done it in my head

If it's make-believe

Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

It wasn’t until she was alone in her dorm one night that she let her mind wander even further. She’d had enough of the lingering glances and the pure torture of wandering the halls with him, resisting the temptation to touch him. Hermione could have exploded when Lavender waltzed into his life. How could she contain the years of built-up fantasies, now that everything she wished would happen could only play out in her head?

So she let it play out. When her roommates were out one night, and the lights were dark, she drew her four-poster curtains shut and cast a silencing charm. She imagined him lying there, under the covers, sidled up next to her with his clothes nowhere to be found. When her hand slipped into her own knickers, it could just as easily have been his. Why should she have to wonder how his fingers would caress her, how his tongue would pave a trail between her legs, or what it might feel like with him fully inside her? She deserved to know.

And once she knew, a dam had been broken. It happened in the shower, in broom closets they’d discovered on prefect rounds, and in empty classrooms when persistent thoughts of Ron wouldn’t leave her alone during a study session.

The Ron that lived in her mind — the one that was hers, not Lavender’s — did well with practice. It didn’t take long for him to learn her body, how to make her breath hitch and her eyes roll back in her head. The Ron of her fantasies knew how to elicit a gasp and a moan. He took pride in making her scream his name.

Somehow, she knew the real Ron probably would too.

My bedsheets are ablaze, I've screamed his name

Building up like waves crashing over my grave

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

Hermione took another sip of her butterbeer, which effectively brought her back to reality, even if only for the moment. Her mouth watered, and whether that was from the taste of butterbeer or something else, Hermione didn’t know.

Ginny was still talking, having not noticed Hermione’s eyes glazing over as her mind transported her somewhere else.

She risked a glance toward Ron’s table to see that he was still there, and his red hair sent a jolt of electricity through her body. How did he have that effect on her even after breaking her heart? It wasn’t fair. Hermione gulped down the remainder of her unsatisfying butterbeer, and the tingle in her spine strengthened.

There was really only one way to quell the heat that seeing him ignited, and even then, it wasn’t never quite enough. It had already happened in her dorm, the shower, a broom closet and an empty classroom… Why not add a bar bathroom to the list?

“I’ll be right back,” she announced to Ginny as she stood. “Bathroom.”

Ginny nodded and Hermione turned toward the back of the bar, shouldering her way through the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ron looking in her direction, but she didn’t dare risk eye contact to confirm it. He was on a date, and she didn’t want Lavender’s wrath.

Maybe he still harbored the same thoughts she did. There was something between them before Lavender got in the way, she knew it. Those glances, extended hugs, intense eye contact… did he get butterflies the way she did? Did he think of her at night? And if he did, would seeing her across the bar remind him of what could have been?

Hermione pressed the door to the loo open and slipped through, her heart pounding at the possibility.

A girl could hope.

#romione #ron and hermione #ron x hermione #hermione granger #hpromione #ronweasley #romione fanfic #hp fanfic #ron weasley #ttpd #guilty as sin?

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