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Hermione pinched her sausage with a fork in vigor, its meat bending by the pressure and the juice oozing out, until finally, with a loud clang of utensil, the sausage got sliced in half. Ron eyed the sausage’s destiny mortifyingly. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, until finally - with the littlest ounce of courage he had left - whispered:
“I-I’m sorry okay? I-I just don’t get why you won’t help me…You’re her friend - you even hang out sometimes. And I don’t know why it is so hard to pass a message or two!” Noticing that he had once again sounded demanding, he clamped his hand to his mouth. “I-I’m sorry, I’ll go off now… see you at class!”
Hermione glared at Ron’s retreating form. When he was out of sight, she released a heavy sigh of relief - and restrained anger - as she finally started to eat the sausage she murdered.
It was early in the morning at Hogwarts, Hermione expected this day to go the same as peaceful as the past few days - unlike the early months when other schools had just arrived and all the students seemed to be a fanatic mess - so she started with mirth, like every student as they saw the good weather outside. But, unfortunately, and contrary to her best wishes, Ronald had come down with air in his steps and formidable resolution as he asked Hermione a very unfavorable favor. And Hermione needn’t another second to refuse.
“You’re just going to give her the letter, not that hard no?… Don’t glare at me! I know all these kids have been bugging you for the same thing, but we’re friends aren’t we?”
A clang awakened her from her stupor. When she looked down at her plate, the poor sausage had been once again mashed, as though it was originally a lump of minced meat than a sausage. She whispered a soft sorry.
But no, she’s not going to pass anyone’s love letter to Fleur.
*
Students diverged in the wake of the passing red-head. Everyone can clearly see he wasn’t in the best of mood - he was beet red, and, if you looked closely, you might even see smoke coming out of his ears - so the students preferred not to be in unnecessary furor during a good sunny day as they trekked along the corridors. Though, they doubt the red-head would even notice them as he was busy whispering to himself.
“What’s wrong with it? I offered to pay even! Must be because it stroke her wrong: all about me being a coward and not being a gentleman. I don’t want her telling me off about it though…I’ll just look for another way…No, I don’t have another way…I’ll figure out a plan later. No, won’t let her back out!” He muttered to himself as he walked to Herbology class.
“What?” Harry asked he hadn’t realized that he arrived already. Harry threw him a look of perplexity and even uncertainty - as though he was in mayhem.
He acquiesced to telling him, thinking he could help. He looked around, searching for any signs of Hermione, when it was clear, he faced back to Harry.
“Well, you know Fleur (of course I know her)…then, I…I think…I think I’ve got a crush.” He muttered to Harry who was playing with an Asphodel flower on their table.
“How surprising.”
“I’m serious!” He complained.
“Alright, alright. Then what’s the problem?” Harry looked at him in mock seriousness - Ron saw it clearly.
He ignored it and breathed deeply, once again surveying his surrounding,s and said: “Well, I asked her to give her my letter and other things, like put a good word for me. But the thing is, she won’t accept it! I even proposed to pay!”
Harry chuckled in return - to Ron’s indignation.
“Sorry, sorry. That’s a hard feat, won’t you come up to her yourself?”
“We won’t be having this conversation if I can!” He whispered impatiently. “So, since she won’t do it, or anyone could - you won’t do it no?… Yes, clearly. As I’ve said, I need another--”
“Why don’t you offer her…”
Ron observed as Harry left their booth and traipsed to the corner of the greenhouse. He came back carrying a pot.
“Sopophorous Bean? Where the hell you’d get that?” Ron asked confusedly.
“I reckon Hermione had difficulty procuring the sleeping potion - and she won’t reject an opportunity to practice for sure - you have to add the other things too though, Asphodel’s already here! Anyway, I just found, I think it arrived here last…”
When he looked back, Ron was long gone from his sight along with the two pots. Harry momentarily wondered how he could hide it in his robes, but when Mrs. Sprout told them it was Mandrakes time, he surreptitiously sneaked out the greenhouse with only escape hurling in his head.
*
Ron didn’t see Hermione during lunch - he knew she was avoiding her, he can’t blame her for it though - and despite hanging out by the Great Hall for the entirety of the night, no, he still didn’t see Hermione either. So with resolve, he decided he’d look for her during her prefect nightly rounds - with little regard to curfew - in his sheer excitement.
He hid behind a pillar as Padma Patil, raising her wand defensively, came marching the 3rd-floor corridor. She stopped for a moment as if accentuating her senses until finally, she continued walking. Ron released his breath and left for the stairs. He didn’t know where Hermione was patrolling but he had a good idea as he and Harry were caught by her once.
He entered the 2nd-floor corridor, his feet light in his steps, an arm reached out to the wall in case another prefect comes by.
He was going to pass by another corner when he heard giggles resounding from a classroom behind him. He jolted, posture straightening - he must be imagining it, but did he just hear Hermione’s voice?
He had half the mind to leave it - must be the ghosts anyway, and he’s not ready to deal with Peeves telling him off.
He was walking back to the stairs when,
“Fleur! not here!”
It was indeed Hermione…and Fleur?
He sneaked back and stuck his ear on the door to hear clearly.
“You said you were going to show something to me!” Hermione said in an attempted whisper, but it was so silent that despite her efforts, he could’ve heard it by the end of the hall.
“Oui, I vas. ‘owever, I forgot.” Fleur replied in her thick French accent, not even bothering to lower her voice.
“Then we should go! I am supposed to be looking for students escaping curfew not be one myself!” She whispered harshly.
“Ma belle, you are prefect, you basically own the rules.” She said confidently and a little louder which she probably had intended.
“That’s not how it works! And can you please lower your voice!”
When Ron thought they have finally engaged in a whisper - an actual ‘no one would be able to hear it’ whisper - Ron had to press his ear closer to the door that his ear was prickled by splinters.
When he did though, the door moved soundlessly as it opened an inch. He froze and gulped heavily. Deciding to make a run for it before he was caught, he removed himself from the door.
Another sound caught his attention, however.
Rapidly, he leaned down once again against the door and pushed it so that he had a view of the inside - his curiosity could not be contained any longer.
He kept pushing slowly. Chairs, desks, chairs, desks, blackboard, teacher’s desk - he was thankful that the moon was full today, if not, he wouldn’t be able to see a thing - chairs, desks, chairs, desks; until finally, he saw two figures sitting by the window.
His suspicions were correct. By the window, Hermione was kissing Fleur! Not just kissing, in fact, they were making out! And it seemed like it wouldn’t just be making out sooner or later. Sloppy wet sounds filled the room as they kissed aggressively; Hermione clenched her fingers through Fleur’s blonde hair, while the other girl had her hands on Hermione’s waist, inching little by little inside her shirt, and skin was getting exposed.
Ron had to clamp his mouth to contain his gasp. Immediately, he closed the door softly and made a run to the dorm. After all he saw, there’s one thing he knew: he shouldn’t have seen that.
He grabbed his pillow which he used as ear muffs and closed his eyes forcibly. He couldn’t get rid of that sloppy wet sound and the image of them kissing. No, he really shouldn’t have seen that, really. Good for them though, he thought, good for them.