***
Sixteen year old Ron Weasley let out a stream
of curse words as his books tumbled from his arms to the floor. He sent
a glare at Draco Malfoy, who had 'accidentally' bumped into him.
Malfoy just gave him an amused glance, then went back to talking with
his friends.
The day hadn't been going well. He'd overslept
and missed fifteen minutes of Potions, which got him into loads of trouble
with Snape (who seemed to be in an especially foul mood). Then
he'd gotten into a huge fight with his younger sister, Ginny, over an
owl from home.
As if the day hadn't been going bad enough,
he had bumped Harry into Cho Chang at lunch and caused his best friend
to spill his pumpkin juice all over her robes. This had gotten Harry quite
angry at Ron, who argued that Harry had been talking about approaching
her-he was just helping him along. Too bad Harry hadn't seen it his way.
And now the floor was scattered with his
parchment, quills, and books, and Transfiguration started in about thirty
seconds. He hurriedly shoved everything into his bag, then sped
down the hall to Professor McGonagall's classroom. When he was about five
feet away from the door, Filch, the caretaker, called, "You! Weasley boy!
No running in the halls-detention!"
Ron groaned, but didn't stop running. He
slid into Transfiguration, hoping that no one would notice him, and collapsed
into his seat next to Hermione. She gave him a curious glance, and Harry
just glared at him, obviously still mad about Cho.
"Do you have an excuse as to why you are
late, Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked sternly. Everyone in the
class, which consisted of the sixth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, turned
to look at him.
"No," Ron said meekly.
Professor McGonagall shook her head in disappointment.
"You should take a lesson from your older brother, Percy. In all his seven
years at Hogwarts, he was never once late for my class."
Ron didn't bother to reply. He was too angry.
And fed up. Fed up with people always comparing him with his siblings!
He wasn't the athletic one, that was Charlie. He wasn't the cool one,
that was Bill. He wasn't the smart one, that was Percy. He wasn't one
of the the popular ones, those were Fred and George. Even Ginny, his younger
sister, was described as something that he was not. Sweet. Ginny was the
sweet, quiet one that everyone liked for her pleasant personality.
He was just Ron the nobody. He had been
for as long as he could remember. Girls never liked him, teachers were
never proud of him, and people never laughed at his jokes or complimented
him for his great personality. That was because he wasn't any of that-apparently
there could only be one (well...two in Fred and George's case) smart one,
or popular one, or funny one in the Weasley family.
And Ron didn't have any of those qualities.
"Mr. Weasley?"
Professor McGonagall's strict tone brought
him back to earth.
"Huh?" he asked stupidly, feeling incredibly
embarrassed.
"The answer?" she prompted. Ron wasn't sure,
but he thought that for a second he saw a glint of amusement flash through
her eyes.
"I...I don't know."
"I suggest that you pay closer attention,
Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said with a smirk. "Hermione...the
answer?"
Hermione sang out the answer, and Professor
McGonagall gave her a nod of approval. "Correct."
As usual, Ron thought bitterly. Even though
he had been friends with Hermione for six years, and her boyfriend for
two, she still never ceased to make him look or feel stupid. Even his
girlfriend was better than him at everything! This bugged Ron frequently,
but usually he just told himself that Hermione was practically perfect,
and that was why. But today, he didn't bother to give himself the usual
peptalk.
He suddenly felt as though he couldn't stand
to be in the classroom for another second, so he raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall
asked, clearly annoyed.
"Can I go to the hospital wing?" Ron asked,
"I've got an awful headache."
"I suppose," Professor McGonagall said,
looking a bit suspicious, "But don't take forever. Be back within fifteen
minutes."
"All right," Ron agreed. He got up from
his desk and began to walk out of the classroom. Hermione mouthed "What's
wrong?" to him, but he just glared in response. He didn't feel like being
around her.
As soon as he was out of the classroom,
he took a deep breath and walked down the corridor, angry. Angry that
everyone was better than him; that the people that surrounded him were
all something and he was a big fat nothing.
"Who needs them, anyway?" he spat. It was
true. Why should he be forced to be surrounded by people who made him
feel like an insignificant piece of dirt?
He closed his eyes, and visions of his friends
and family flew through his head. Hermione, with her perfect marks. Harry,
with his bravery and Quiddich talent. Percy, with all his O.W.L.'s.
They were all so much better than he was.
"Aah!" Ron cried in frustration. His voice
echoed down the empty hall, and he prayed that McGonagall hadn't heard
him.
The door to McGonagall's classroom swung
open, and Ron took a deep breath. He was in for it. Another detention.
Two in less than half an hour-a record.
But it wasn't McGonagall who stepped out,
it was Hermione. She was twisting a strand of her bushy brown hair around
her index finger.
"There you are," she said in a hushed voice.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," Ron said tonelessly.
"Oh, you don't expect me to believe that,
do you?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "First, you're
paying no attention in class, and then you glare at me for no apparent
reason-"
"Fine!" Ron said, trying not to raise his
voice, "Want to know why? There IS a reason! It's because you're so damn
perfect at everything, and-"
"Ron, don't swear," Hermione automatically
corrected him.
"Damn, damn, damn!" he said, knowing that
he was digging his own grave but not really caring.
"You're so obnoxious!" Hermione said, her
cheeks starting to redden in anger. "Just because I STUDY and actually
CARE about my schoolwork doesn't mean that I'm PERFECT. So why-"
"That's it," Ron said, his voice rising
dangerously. He knew McGonagall would hear him any second, but he kept
on yelling anyway, "EVERYONE is better than me! Harry's a hero who's defeated
You-Know-Who countless times, you're a perfect student who the teachers
all love, Percy is a perfectionist, Fred and George are the funny, popular
ones who get in trouble all the time but everyone likes anyway,
Charlie's the Quiddich player who could have gone pro, Bill-"
"So you're feeling sorry for yourself,"
Hermione said in her irritatingly reasonable voice.
"No, I'm not!" Ron protested. "I'm
just...not good at anything! It's like everyone I know is brilliant at
something, and I'm not!"
Hermione's expression softened slightly.
"You're good at lots of things, Ron," she said, her voice much warmer.
"You just don't realize it."
"Like what?" Ron asked quizzically.
"You're a master at chess, for starters,"
Hermione said, counting off on her fingers, "And you're incredibly
funny, though you don't realize it. You're a loyal friend. You aren't
afraid to stand up for what you believe in. And..."
Her cheeks reddened, though this time in
embarrassment, not anger, and her voice trailed off.
"And what?" Ron asked curiously.
She lifted her gaze from the floor.
"And you make me feel this way that no one
else can."
Ron felt a warm feeling flow through his
body at her words. Even though she didn't act it often, Hermione was incredibly
sweet. He gave her a smile, suddenly feeling perfectly happy.
"I know what you mean," Ron said, taking
one of her hands in his.
"You aren't a nothing," she said, her brown
eyes staring straight into his. And Ron believed her. He was something,
he realized, to a lot of people. He was a love to Hermione, a best friend
to Harry, an important member to his family...
Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the lips,
then said, "I love you, you know."
"I love you too," Ron said. He knew that
he was grinning foolishly, but didn't care.
Hermione smiled back, then said, "Well,
we should get back to class now. I told McGonagall I was going to use
the bathroom, and she'll probably think I've drowned in the toilet if
we don't get back soon."
Ron laughed and wrapped his fingers around
hers as they walked back to Transfiguration.
Suddenly, the day didn't seem so bad.
Disclaimer: The characters, Hogwarts, etc.
belong to J.K. Rowling. The (somewhat mushy) idea is mine :)
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please
review now :)
