Title: Ron's Admirer pt. 1/2
Disclaimer: They're all from JRK's genius mind. I mean, I wish I owned Harry, but unfortunately, I can only pretend.
Summary: Ron has a secret admirer, Harry finds the entire thing highly amusing, and Hermione's jealous of Luna. Ron's POV
Pairings: Ron/Luna, Harry/Hermione, and some Ron-->Hermione
Author's Notes: My first Ron/Luna fic. I've had this written for a fairly good amount of time now, I've just never gotten around to posting it. There's quite a substantial Harry/Hermione sub-plot because, I loveth the H/Hr. However, I really wanted to attempt R/L and I had a lot of fun writing from Ron's point of view and getting a chance to write H/Hr from someone else's perspective.
A/N 2: If anyone is curious about the state of Lines Crossed, the next chapter should be out some time next week. I'm having some difficulty with it, but it is my next project.
The problem, I decided, in being part of the famous trio was that I all too often got shrugged into the background. Oh, I wasn't bitter about it-hardly ever, anyway. It was just something I'd long since come to accept.
On one side there was the hero. Quiet, brooding, a little bad-tempered but generally kind and chivalrous. Famous and noble, everyone wanted to be him. Or at least date him.
On the other side was the heroine. Cheerful, bossy, and altogether too confident, she was far too bright and clever. While she intimidated many, nearly everyone respected her. Plus, she had the added bonus of being best friends with two of Hogwarts most devilishly handsome bachelors.
Ahem.
And then there was me. No one really wanted to be me and no one particularly respected me. I had a knack for saying the wrong things at the wrong time. Not to mention, I had the emotional range of (how did Hermione put it?)-a teaspoon.
Ahh, Hermione. Such a loyal and supporting friend.
Although, as I discovered one fateful and very mortifying day at breakfast, apparently someone did want to date me.
"Shut up, Harry," I said through gritted teeth.
Harry, who was laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing, let out a snort and chortled louder.
"Shut up, Harry," I snapped again, dangerously close to slaughtering the smug git.
Harry was grabbing the edges of the table to hold himself up, he was laughing so hard.
"SHUT UP, HARRY!"
Oh, good. Now everyone in the Great Hall was staring. Good move, Ron. Very smooth.
This, of course, only heightened my best friend's mirth.
I ground my teeth together. "Shut your hole, Harry!"
What, may you ask, caused Harry Potter, the normally reserved and brooding hero, to dissolve into such a fit of giggles? (For that is what they were. Giggles. Nothing manly about it.)
It appeared that I had a secret admirer. That is, if appeared meant painstakingly and embarrassingly obvious.
Damn obvious.
As evidenced by the 101 (oh, yes, I counted. There were, exactly, 101.) paper, pink hearts dropped into my plate, all saying, very obviously:
To: Ronald Weasley
Love: Your Secret Admirer
I kept alternating between embarrassingly mortified, flattered, shocked, and angry with the moron who called himself my best friend.
"SHUT UP, HARRY!"
Hermione glanced at me, glanced at the 101 pink hearts, and then glanced at Harry. I studied her expression, suddenly desperate to know what she thought of the entire situation. As per usual, I found her face to be an unreadable mask.
"Oh, Harry, be quiet," she said, giving him a withering look.
Harry, to my complete surprise, shut up.
Huh? What the hell? What? How in the bloody hell did she do that?
Hermione started flicking through the hearts, face turning into a frown and eyes narrowing. "Who sent you these?" she asked.
I blinked. Who did send them? I glanced furtively around the Great Hall, studying the students as my eyes passed over them. One of them out there liked me. Not Harry, me. The entire thing would have sounded absurd had it not been happening.
My gaze settled on Hermione again and I found some kind of hope die in my chest. From the distinct frown on her features, I took a wild leap and decided that she probably hadn't sent them. Not that I wanted her to or anything. It was just good to narrow down the list of suspects.
"It says it's from a secret admirer, Hermione," I said, voice a little bit sharper than I intended. "How would I know who sent them?"
"Well," she said, sounding more irritable by the second. "You must have some idea. You probably led on one of the younger students without realizing it."
"Led on one of the younger students?" I repeated, horrified. "Hermione, I'm telling you, I don't know who sent those!"
She set the hearts down, a speculative look on her face. Her eyes caught Harry's and they shared a long, deep, meaningful look. They were clearly saying something to each other, however, just what they were saying was a complete and utter mystery to me.
Annoying Thing Harry and Hermione Do Number 1: Speak through "the look."
They clearly reached some sort of telepathic agreement because Harry cleared his throat and looked at me. "Ron," he said, voice serious. "It's very important that you try and think of someone who could have sent these."
I stared at him. Did he not hear the first hundred times I made it very CLEAR that I did not know who sent me these stupid, heart shaped valentines?
"Malfoy!" I breathed, suddenly. "It must have been Malfoy! He must be… he must be…"
Harry's face paled. "Malfoy?" he repeated. "You think that Malfoy is your secret admirer?"
There were loud snickers from around us. Stupid first and second years. Always listening to conversations that didn't concern them.
"No, Harry," I ground out. But thanks for announcing that to the rest of the school. "I think he sent them to embarrass me."
Harry and Hermione shared another long look. What the hell were they discussing? And why couldn't they just say it aloud? Harry gave a barely imperceptible nod and that seemed to mean Hermione's cue to take up the discussion.
It was very, very annoying.
"No, I don't think so," she said. Her tone indicated that she was frantically making some kind of connection in her head. "No," she said again. "Too much work for Malfoy. He would have just sent one and it would have been louder and flashier. No, this took a lot of time. Only someone who was really serious would have bothered with 100 separate hearts."
"101," I corrected absently.
Harry and Hermione stared at me.
"I'm just saying," I muttered, a tad miffed.
Harry grinned cheekily. "Ron's got a secret admirer!" he said. "Someone's in looovveeee with Ron…"
"Shut up, Harry."
"Someone wants to snog you and marry you and have your babies…."
Damn it! I was starting to blush. "Shut your trap, Harry!"
"Oi, Ron?" Dean yelled out from the other end of the table. "Can I be your best man?"
"Hey!" Harry said loudly. "If anyone gets to be his best man, it's going to be me!"
"SHUT. UP. HARRY!"
"What about me?" Seamus hollered out.
Hermione huffed out a long breath and sent me an annoyed look. What? What did I do? How was this my fault?
I tried to catch her eye and do that whole "speaking without talking" thing her and Harry seem so fond of, but I only managed to annoy her further.
"Ron," she said sharply. "Is there something on my face?"
Damn. Busted. "No, no… of course not. I wasn't staring at you. I was, uh… looking at the wall."
Hermione gave a pained sigh and opened her book again, holding it up in front of her face. "Honestly," I heard her mutter to herself. "Such immaturity…"
***
"What were you and Harry going on about before?" I asked, as Hermione and I made our way up to the common room after our prefect rounds.
Hermione gave me a confused look and furrowed her eyebrows. "When?"
"You know," I said, with a wave of my hand. "At breakfast, what was going on? Why was it so important to know who my secret admirer was?"
"Oh!" she said. "That! Well, you know…"
I stared at her. Actually, Hermione, communicating without talking isn't my strong suit. Would you please just explain it to me?
"No, I don't know," I snapped. "Which is why I was asking."
She sighed. "Okay, but you're not going to like the answer."
"I like not knowing the answer even less."
"Well, it's just that…" she trailed off and chewed her lip thoughtfully. "We're in the middle of war, Ron. And we just… we need to be careful."
What kind of a crap explanation was that?
"What kind of an explanation is that?"
She heaved another long sigh. "There might have been a possibility that…"
"Yes?" I prodded.
"That… that someone was trying to use you to get to Harry."
I felt a breath of air leave my chest. Right. Of course, Hermione's first thoughts would be about Harry. Figured. Not like they were my stupid valentines or anything.
"Oh, you're getting angry…" Hermione said, sounding a little fearful. "I knew this would upset you… Harry!"
"No, Hermione!" I ground out. "I'm Ron. Ron…."
Hermione clamped a hand over my mouth and jerked her head down the hall. There was Harry, deep in conversation with none other than Loonie Lovegood. I didn't see what the big deal was, and was, quite frankly, more distracted by the fact that Hermione's hand was pressed firmly against my mouth. If I moved my lips slightly I'd be able to…
Hermione pulled her hand away and yanked me down the hall we had just come from. She poked her head around the corner, watching them in clear suspicion. "He's talking to her again…"
"So?" I demanded, more than a little on edge at this point.
"Shush!" she admonished. "He talks to her a lot."
"So?" I asked again.
She shifted her eyes to the floor, looking a little sad. "I know it's stupid but… I feel like Harry keeps stuff from us. Not that he's obligated to tell us everything. But it's like… it's like he feels more comfortable talking to Luna than to m-us."
I felt a very strong knee-jerk jealous reaction coming on. Fortunately, after being friends with Hermione for nearing six years now, I was smart enough to clamp down on it. Yelling myself hoarse at her would only succeed in bringing about a blistering row that would probably involve a long week in which we'd refuse to talk to each other.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound soothing. "You know that's not true. We're Harry's best friends, Hermione. So what if he's found some kind of connection with Loonie? That's great if he feels comfortable with her. But that doesn't make us any less his best friends."
Hermione's eyes filled and next thing I knew she was hugging me. "Thanks, Ron," she whispered. "I'm really sorry about the valentines. Of course you'd have a secret admirer. It was silly of us to think anything else."
"I… err… uh… I…"
Hermione was hugging me! Hermione was in my arms! I could smell her! I was holding her! Hermione was… was… pulling away from me…
"I'll see you later," she said, hurrying off. "I'm going to go to the library."
I could do nothing but stare at her as she took off, still feeling her small body in my arms. Feeling slightly dazed, I turned, planning on continuing back to the common room. I rounded the corner, completely forgetting that Harry and Luna Lovegood were still involved in a deep and meaningful conversation.
Whatever they were talking about abruptly ended as I walked towards them.
"Hello, Ronald," Loonie greeted dreamily, her large eyes wide and unblinking behind her horn-rimmed glasses.
Harry, damned him, seemed altogether too amused. "Hey, Ron. What did you decide to do with all your hearts?"
Luna's large eyes blinked slowly. "Yes…" she said, a breathy note to her voice. "What did you do with them?"
I actually still had all of them. It probably would have been smart to burn them. Unfortunately, after thinking about it some more, I was back to being flattered. Someone liked me. Someone liked me enough to spend time and energy cutting out (or magicking out, whatever) 101 paper, pink hearts.
The fact, however, that I had no idea who sent them was slightly disconcerting. My brain had easily filled in the blanks for me, painting me a picture of a girl who bore a certain likeness to Fleur Delacour, but was as smart as Hermione (only she argued with me a whole lot less).
So, naturally, faced with the dreamy expression on Luna's face and the smirk on Harry's, I lied.
"I threw them out."
Luna studied me for a moment. "Oh," she whispered, sounding completely unaffected by the entire thing. "You should have kept them. Love is very important, you know."
Odd girl, Luna Lovegood. Odd girl.
"Right, I'll keep that in mind," I said in a dismissive tone.
She grinned broadly. "That's wonderful news, Ronald!"
She was insane. Completely and utterly insane.
"Right! Quite right." I cleared my throat. "Ready to head back up to the common room, Harry?"
Harry's head snapped up, an unreadable expression on his face. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later, Luna."
I was surprised when Harry reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. They shared an intimate smile as he did so.
"Tomorrow, Harry."
Oi! Shoulder touching! Intimate smiles! Long, quiet drawn out talks!
Maybe Hermione had a point, after all. Clearly Harry saw something in Loonie Lovegood that none of the rest of us did. Since I was never one for being subtle and gentle, I said the first thing that popped into my mind.
"Harry, what the hell is going on between you and Loonie?"
Harry glowered at me and glanced behind him to make sure that Luna was out of earshot. "I wouldn't expect you to understand," he said, voice tightly controlled.
Uh, oh. Bad-tempered alarm bells were going off everywhere in my head. Harry didn't look like he was about to start yelling, but looks (especially when it came to Harry) could be very, very deceiving. And after all the yelling Harry did last year-well, I'd learned to tread carefully.
"Bloody hell, Harry! She's completely mad. Have you met her? She's off her bloody rocker. I'm telling you, you have to be careful around girls like that!"
Oops.
Harry went very still and got that dangerous look in his eyes that generally meant shouting wasn't too far behind. "You don't know the first thing about Luna," he snapped. "You've never bothered to take the time to know her. You just base her on an image, you base her on what others say about her." Harry met my eyes. "I can relate to that."
Thank Merlin he didn't yell all that. As it was, he managed to make me feel downright guilty. With a vague sound of disgust, Harry looked away and started stalking (seriously, stalking) back towards the common room.
I stood awkwardly behind him for a moment, cursing the fact that there was clearly a missing link between my mouth and my brain. I hurried to catch up with him, but he refused to acknowledge my presence. Damn, that guilt was coming back in spades.
Think, Ron's brain, think! What would Hermione do? Well, for starters, she wouldn't have made such a moronic comment in the first place. But if she had, well… first her eyes would have filled with tears (they always did when Harry yelled at her), then she'd probably apologize and hug him, maybe giving him a quick peck on the cheek for good measure. Only then would she pull away, eyes staring into his, and ask in a quiet voice if he wanted to talk.
Which, of course, awww… who could resist that?
However, I definitely wasn't going to hug Harry. The cheek kissing was also out. Also tears were out of the question on account of the fact that I was a guy. Which left the eye staring and the quiet voice.
This was going to be interesting.
"Harry, mate," I began nervously, trying and failing to catch his eye. "Do you, err… want to talk?"
We reached the Fat Lady. "Open sesame," Harry barked at her.
I know, not the most creative password, but it was so obvious that there was a certain brilliance in it.
Harry stomped all the way up to our dorm room, apparently thinking over my request. Before entering, he paused and turned in my direction.
"Look," he said shortly. "There are things that Luna understands about me that you and Hermione can't."
Oh, boy, did I ever hope Hermione never heard those words. I swallowed heavily. "Like what?"
Harry stared at me for a long time. "Luna's mother died when Luna was eight."
"Oh," I said, feeling uncomfortable. Right, here we were again. Harry was in one of his "I'm sad because my parents died horrible deaths" moods. He seemed to think that just because both my parents were alive, well, and happily married, I couldn't understand his pain.
Okay. He may have had a point there.
Harry sighed. "Ron, just… give her a chance. I think she'd surprise you."
A chance at what? Was he purposely being this vague?"
"I, uh-sure, Harry."
Harry smiled thinly and I followed him into the dorm room.
***
"He's talking to her again."
I looked at Hermione blearily. "Huh?"
"Honestly!" she said huffily. "Don't you ever pay attention to what's going on around you?"
Not at this time in the morning, I didn't. Especially not after having dreams all night long about a Fleur Delacour look-alike who wasn't part Veela, didn't have the stupid accent, and enjoyed fishing (really, fishing) for books. It was all very disturbing. I had a feeling my subconscious mind may have been trying to hint at something, but I really didn't want to dwell on it.
"Who's talking to who?"
Hermione nudged me in the ribs and tilted her head towards the Ravenclaw table. "Harry's talking to Luna again. He hasn't even bothered to say good-morning yet!"
I yawned widely. "Don't speak ill of Luna in front of him, Hermione. He gets all bothered by it."
Hermione looked troubled. I felt bad, so I decided to help her out.
"So you think there's something going on between the two of them?"
Oops.
From the way Hermione was looking at me, it was safe to assume I probably wouldn't be turning 17 this year. Fortunately, I was saved from Hermione's wrath by a very large brick that hurtled from the sky and landed on my head.
"OW!"
The brick bounced off my head and dropped itself into my eggs. Smashing. Looking down at it, I discovered that it wasn't a brick, but a very large, very edible looking block of fudge.
On it, in flashing red and white letters it said:
To: Ronald
I know how important food is in your life.
Love,
Your Secret Admirer
"Aha!" I cried triumphantly. "It's someone who pays attention to my eating habits! Someone who watches me when I eat…"
I flicked my eyes around the Great Hall, searching for someone that had their eyes on my plate of food. Discovering nothing, my eyes finished their rounds by settling on the girl sitting next to me. Hold on! Hermione was staring at my food! Hermione sent me the fudge! Hermione liked me! Hermione was my secret admirer!
"Honestly, Ron, from the sheer amount of food you manage to consume… well, it's not that difficult to notice." Hermione cleared her throat. "Clearly whoever it is lacks originality. Pink hearts? Chocolate? Is there anything more cliched?"
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I blushed to the tips of my ears and removed the block of fudge from my plate so I wouldn't have to look at Hermione. Besides, it wasn't like I wanted Hermione to be my secret admirer. I concentrated on eating the food the fudge hadn't managed to destroy, stomach rumbling as I did so. The entire ordeal had succeeded in making me inexplicably starving.
"Ha! Remembered your friends, did you? Surprised we still exist, are you? Well! If you think you can just… just waltz over here and expect me to read over your Potion's essay, you have another thing coming!"
I started choking on my eggs. What in the bleeding hell? What did I do now? I glanced hesitantly up at Hermione, surprised to see that her furious gaze was not in my direction. Interesting. I needed a moment to savor that.
Okay. Moment over.
Harry was staring at Hermione, eyes very wide. "What… what are you…"
"Oh, don't even pretend that you don't know!" she snapped. "Apparently, Ron and I don't merit a `good-morning'!"
Harry glanced over at me helplessly. "I said good-morning to you, didn't I?"
I felt a stirring of pity. "Sure did, mate."
This only seemed to incense Hermione further. "Oh, really," she hissed. "So I don't warrant a `good-morning,' then?"
Harry looked completely and utterly bewildered. Hermione didn't usually snipe at him like that. Come to think of it, mostly she sniped at me like that. Ahhh, well. It was good to not be on the receiving end, anyway.
Suddenly, Harry's eyes darkened. Uh, oh. I glanced back at Hermione, curious to see how she was taking it. Remember, Hermione! Harry has a temper! We learned this last year! Sheesh!
I was surprised to see her on her feet, her eyes growing brighter. Batten down the hatches, Harry and Hermione were about to get into a fight. Absolutely wonderful way to start the day.
"This isn't about you," Harry retorted. "This has to do with Luna, doesn't it?"
Hermione took a step closer to him. "Of course this isn't about Luna!" she said shrilly. "I'm talking about you! You're the one making it about Luna!"
"It is about Luna!" Harry replied, voice low. "If I had just been talking to Ginny you wouldn't have had a problem with it!" Harry took a step closer to her, fists clenching.
Annoying Thing Harry and Hermione do Number 2: When they fight, they actually step closer together!
Next Hermione's eyes will fill with tears. You'd think one of them would back off then, wouldn't you? But… no… oh, no. They actually get closer! It was maddening. And also, very, very annoying.
"It's not!" Hermione protested, face flushing. Tears! There were tears! Aha! And that barely imperceptible step forward! "I just wish…" her voice dropped. "I just wish you felt as comfortable talking to me as you do her."
Harry stared at her for a very long time. Finally, he grinned. "C'mon, Hermione," he needled. "That's not true. Would it help if I just said `good-morning?'"
Clearly something in Harry's grin was contagious because Hermione softened. I hated it when Harry used "the grin." The one thing known to win over Hermione when all else failed. Trust me, I'd seen it in action many a time. Unfortunately, my smile never seemed to have such an effect on her.
Hermione let out a breath, blushing a little as she did so. "Well… I suppose so."
Another grin. "Well, then…. Good morning, Hermione. How are you today?"
"Suddenly better, actually. How are you?"
"Same."
More grinning. Grinning at each other, to be precise. Ugh.
"Oi!" I said loudly. "I'm just great, too!"
Two pairs of eyes suddenly flicked over at me in slight surprised. Yes, I was still here. Thanks, guys. You two are the best friends ever!
"Ron got another item from his secret admirer," Hermione shared as she and Harry sat down.
I glared at her. "That's right," I said snippily. "I got another item from my secret admirer? So what?"
To my surprise, Harry didn't even look faintly amused. "Really?" he said. "What did you get?"
I gestured to the brick of chocolate sitting next to my plate.
Harry gave me a grin. Aww, wasn't that just sweet of him. Unfortunately for him, his grin did not effect me in the same way it effected Hermione. It horrified me slightly, however, to see that Neville was beginning to grin like a complete and giant doofus. Even Lavender and Pavarti were beginning to swoon. A quick glanced at Hermione showed that she had just melted into a puddle. Bleck. Harry's grin wasn't that great.
"It's obviously someone who knows you very well," Harry said, still grinning, reading the inscription on the chocolate.
I grinned back at him. Drat! Stupid mouth! Stop smiling! Okay, so maybe there was something highly infectious about Harry's smile. I was not going to dwell on it.
"Yeah," I said. "It was awfully nice of them, wasn't it?"
Harry leaned back and considered me. "Did you have any idea who it is?"
I shook my head. "None. None at all."
Hermione glanced over at the chocolate, her eyes teasing. "Anyone you want it to be?"
I think my gaze my have stayed on Hermione a tiny bit too long. "Uh… no," I said, beginning to sweat a little, "'Course there isn't."
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