Less Than Stellar

Elva Rhiannon

Rating: R
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Ron & Luna
Book: Ron & Luna, Books 1 - 5
Published: 25/03/2005
Last Updated: 25/03/2005
Status: in_progress

Everybody is picking on Ron. His mum wants him settled down, his friends are married and some are even expecting! Feeling less than stellar, is it possible Ron can solve it all with a bit of blonde eye candy? (Rated R just in case! Oh, and remember, I don't own any of these characters and I forgot to stick the disclaimer on the fic!)

Chapters

1. A Day in the Life

1. A Day in the Life

I was having another bout of inadequateness. There were other ways to put it, but mostly I felt like the fool – one step behind and always never enough. I sipped my cup of tea and looked drearily at my reflection in the cup. Here three years out of Hogwarts, (where I’d had to admit I’d gone out with a bang – being Head Boy and all), I was playing quidditch for the Cannons. A first string beater! The pay was great, but the bloody wizard paparazzi! I was almost convinced it was better being a poor nobody. Then there were always the people who asked why I hadn’t seen fit to be an Auror… Nobody asked Harry such things, but I had since resigned myself to the fact that people were going to be happy with Harry regardless of his choice in life. At least my family supported my quidditch career.

Harry had taken time off from his original notion to be an Auror after he’d finally managed to defeat Voldemort. His zest for violence and revenge had been quelled after that final fire-fight. I had at least put up more of a fight this time. Percy was dead, and I couldn’t help but feel a little remorseful about that even if the bugger had gone dark, but the rest of the family pulled through, for the most part in one piece. There was that minor catastrophe when Ginny had run off with that git Malfoy, but now that was sorted out and Malfoy and I, as legal brothers, got along alright for the most part.

In all, I suppose I ought to be happy. But the last little tête-à-tête I’d had with Mum at the Burrow earlier today brought my little sand castle crashing down around my ears.

“When are you going to get married?” Mum asked me, her youngest son, over her crossed arms. I choked nearly spit my tea all over the table.

“Mum! Really! Where do you come up with these questions? Can’t a man go about it by himself a bit first?”

“You’ve been out of school three years! When your father and I were your age, Bill was a toddler! Your brothers are all married. Harry and Hermione have been married for more than three years! Even Ginny is. I just want you to be happy and settled down; you know that.”

I sloshed what was left of my tea around in the cup and looked at my mother. “I know that, mum, I really do. But I’ve not found anyone yet and I’m not ready. When I do, I’ll let you know.”

She gave me the matronly look that had scandalized me so much as a boy and shook her head.

At this point, I felt less than stellar.

“Ginny and Draco will be coming along any time, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to handle a pregnant sister, so I think I’m going to go back to the cottage. Besides, I have a game tonight,” I hastily told her, and before she could protest, the words “Love you, say hi to Gin for me, bye!” followed by a sharp pop were echoing off the walls. My cup and saucer were still on the kitchen table. I could practically hear her sigh and put my tea cup in the wash sink.

So now here I am, sitting at my own little kitchen table in my own little cottage not 8 miles away from my childhood home, feeling terribly sorry for myself. The tea pot on the stove was whistling at me again, and I poured another cup. Pig ruffled his feathers and made a low hoot.

“No, it’s not women trouble. It’s the lack thereof, Pig. I am sitting here in my little house while all my friends get married, have babies, make lives of their own. What do I do? I play quidditch! I mean, so does Harry, but he and Hermione have each other and they agreed just last week that they should lift the contraceptive charms so that they could have a baby! A baby! And here I am with not even a bloody girlfriend! I’d say I feel left out, but I don’t really want in on that. More like being left behind.”

I gave Pig a piece of the oatmeal cookie I was eating and huffed. I had never thought of myself as a domestic, but I realized when I moved into my own little space that housekeeping was a huge headache and even worse a one if ignored. I now knew the havoc we’d wreaked on my poor mother… I got up and swept the floor, carefully chasing the little dust bunnies out the open door and making sure no little baby got let behind. After the bunnies were suitably gone, I finished the afternoon dishes in the sink. I was totally aware that my space was abnormally clean for a man, but it was my space after all and I would have it my way.

The clock on my wall was pointing to the quidditch pitch on its face and I jumped out of his chair. “Oy! I needed to be in the lockers 20 minutes ago!” I dashed upstairs and jumped into my Cannons uniform, then back downstairs to the brooms closet, grabbed my own Firebolt, and disappeared with a pop. I knew Pig ruffled his feathers again and shook his head.

Nobody said anything to me about being late when I materialized in the locker rooms. Instead, they were all abuzz about a girl they’d seen in the home stands on their warm-up flight around the pitch. At least they weren’t on me.

“Oy, Weasley! You have to check out the girl in the stands with an American cowboy hat. She’s one hot piece! She dresses like an American girl, she-”

“That’s enough out of you Finnegan. Everyone, out on the field!”

When I passed the coach, he tapped me on the arm and whispered, “But Finnegan is right. You should check her out.”

I rolled his eyes. Great! As if I hadn’t heard enough about women today! In spite of myself, I flew out on the pitch and circled high above the home stands and spotted the cowboy hat in the front row. When I flew closer, I nearly fell off my broom in awe and surprise! She was standing, wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a pair of lace up boots, and when she turned, I could make out ‘Wrangler’ on the patch on her right back pocket. There was a shiny buckle with a horse on her leather belt, and she wore a snug white tank top that gave any viewer and eyeful of cleavage. I had a brief notion of blue plaid over-shirt and the waist length ashen braids that fell out from under either side of her hat, but I was still hung up on the tank top. Then I saw her face.

“Luna?”

I couldn’t believe my own eyes! There, in our stands, was Looney Lovegood herself! Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to feel disdainful about her even though I tried. Ginny had mentioned something about her having gone off to America – California even, but I’d never suspected her going to California was going to change her much. Or send her back in full American cowboy regalia, for that matter, but she was making me drool.

“So you know her then, mate?” Patton came along side and slugged me on the shoulder. I hastily wiped at the corners of my mouth before I tried talking.

“Sort of… But I never paid too much attention; always the loony type, her. She took off for America when she graduated… Wow!”

“Better quit yer drooling now. We’ve got a game to win!” Patton flew off and I forced myself to tear my gaze away from the walking eye candy that was Luna Lovegood.

I had more blood in my groin than I did in my head. Flying with certain parts standing at attention had never been my idea of a good time, and I hoped this game wasn’t going to last very long. I wanted to get my hands on one miss cowgirl.

The game was not going my way. Oh, we were winning alright, but that wasn’t the problem. Here two hours in and I was still at attention and she still looked pristine. She was watching me, which didn’t make me sweat any less. My brain and my dick were screaming the same thing at me. “Get the girl, get her now! Now!” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see our seeker flying after something with a determined look on his face, and a bludger coming right at him. I dove for the bludger and gave it a behemoth thwack in hopes that Patton had actually seen the little snitch and would end the first agonizing game of quidditch in my entire existence.