I do not own, nor did I think up any of the characters, places, or things
below. This only excludes the characters Bill (not Weasley), Duana, and
Maximus.
‘Twas a dark and stormy night; clouds thickened on the horizon and rain
poured down in sheets. Worse still, Ron Weasley’s mood matched the weather.
Just two hours ago his wonderful girlfriend, who was the second person
for whom he had ever had any real feelings, had dumped him for
some guy named Maximus.
‘Maximus,’ Ron thought bitterly, ‘what kind of name is that? His real
one is probably Herman and he changed it so witches would like him better.’
Ron had spent the last two hours thinking thoughts like that, wandering
around Godric’s Hollow aimlessly. Ron knew that he should go home; Harry
might worry about him, seeing as it was about three in the morning.
Without really thinking, Ron stuck out his wand arm and waited for the
Knight Bus. Playing with a string on his robe, Ron began to think up various
torture methods for Duana Floress – his ex-girlfriend. All thoughts of
undiluted Bobotuber pus were soon interrupted by a loud BANG! The huge
purple mass of the Knight Bus stood before him.
A tired looking man in a purple uniform stepped out of bus and said tiredly,
“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for witches and wizards.
I’m Bill Grasburg; please enjoy your stay here in the Knight Bus. Where
to?” He cocked his head to the side and looked at Ron as though he had
just woken him up, or disturbed his concentration.
“L-London please, and how much will that be?” Ron stammered, his voice
slightly thick from the crying he had been holding back all evening.
“Eleven Sickles,” Bill said, “Fifteen if you want a toothbrush and tea
or hot chocolate.”
Ron nodded and fished around in his pocket for the money. He handed the
fifteen Sickles to Bill, figuring that he’d need the tea, and stepped
on to the Knight Bus. Bill pointed Ron’s bed out to him and disappeared
somewhere, probably to go and drive. Ron braced himself and, sure enough,
there was another BANG! He was forced down flat on his bed. For the first
time in awhile he gave a half smile. The Knight Bus was always fun.
Lying so that his feet hung over the bed, Ron gave a small sigh and went
back to thinking about Duana being forced to kiss someone incredibly disgusting
‘like, like Malfoy!’ Then he remembered that Malfoy was in Bermuda for
the Ministry. Harry and Ron had celebrated all night when they had found
out that he was leaving England for such a long time. ‘Harry,’ Ron thought,
‘what a lucky guy. He has his own Broom company and a Ginny for a girlfriend.
Harry has a great flat in London and an even better roommate, me.’ Ron
gave another half-hearted smile at this, but what about him?
Ron worked for the Ministry in the Committee on Experimental Charms.
He had some of the best swish and flick control (or SFC) in all of England.
He lived with Harry, and had a nice social circle. Ron had a fairly good
life, he had friends, his family was doing wonderfully, and he even had
a nice little hoard in his vault at Gringrotts. There was just about one
thing missing in Ron’s life right now, and that had been there until two
hours ago.
‘Duana, that cheating scum.’ Ron sighed again and went back to imagining
the she-devil being beaten to death by rabid house elves that looked a
bit like Dobby and Winky. Then, without warning, there was another terrific
BANG and Ron was jolted back further into this bed.
He sat up to see who else was haunting the streets at this hour and
saw a female figure rush onto the bus. She listened patiently to Bill’s
little spiel, and went to the bed next to Ron’s. Ready this time, Ron
braced himself for the tremendous jolt.
After it had passed Ron began to become curious about this strange woman.
Oddly brave from his recent plots of revenge, Ron sat up and said, “’Lo
there, why are you out on a horrible night such at this?”
The woman turned to him and said in a familiar voice, “I’m surprising
a friend in London.” Ron gaped,
“Hermione?”
She was supposed to be in France for the ministry; why was she here?
“Ron is that you?” was the dazed and frazzled answer of Hermione. Ron
nodded, still confused and quite speechless. Suddenly, almost as unexpectedly
as seeing her in England, Hermione leapt up and gave Ron the largest of
hugs.
“Oh Ron! I’m so surprised… what are you doing out this late?” she inquired
after the tight embrace ended.
“I’m coming back from getting my heart stomped on once again,” Ron replied,
suddenly annoyed, “The question really is, why are you here? I thought
that you were in France. Also who is this friend in London you’re visiting?”
Hermione sat down on Ron’s bed and began her lengthy tale.
“Well, as you know, I was in France to negotiate that treaty on Quick
Quotes Quills.” Ron nodded.
“Well, yesterday I got really fed up and in the middle of a meeting
I stood up and screamed, ‘For the love of God who really cares? This is
stupid! I haven’t been in England for five months because of these stupid
Quills. Just get over it! There are more important things in life that
censoring quills, you people are the most annoying overstuffed idiots
that ever lived!’ Then I stormed out of the room.” Hermione had to pause
to wait for Ron’s laughter to subside. Then she continued.
“The next day I came to the meeting and it turns out that everyone felt
the same way! Over an impromptu dinner (I hadn’t been invited to) almost
all of the details had been worked out! I even got a bonus from my boss
for getting us out of there! So this morning I packed my bags, and headed
for the Portkey station. Unfortunately I ended up taking the wrong one
and ended up in thirteen different places before I got home. When I got
to the station I figured that it was much too late to go to Mum and Dad’s,
so I decided to visit you and Harry. I can’t believe that I ran into you
here, it’s so amazing!”
Hermione paused for a moment; as if thinking something over. Then she
gingerly asked,
“Ron why are you here at three in the morning?” Ron sighed and proceeded
to tell Hermione the whole story.
“For the past couple of months I’ve been dating a lovely woman named
Duana. Tonight she arranged for us to meet at a wonderful little romantic
restaurant in Godric’s Hollow. Once we were there, she proceeded to tell
me that she had been seeing another man for about a month now!” Hermione
gasped and opened her mouth, but Ron silenced her with a wave of his hand.
“So there was the basic yelling and tempers. It all ended with me walking
out of the restaurant and of course our breaking up. Of course the worst
part is the other guy himself- his name is Maximus. Apparently he’s some
Roman actor type with perfect everything and brain the size of a Flobberworm.”
Although his words were meant to sound lighthearted, Ron knew that his
voice was cracked with bitterness.
“Oh Ron, I’m so sorry.” Hermione awkwardly reached over and patted Ron
on the back, and surprisingly enough, Ron felt a bit better.Then a slow
wistful smile spread over Hermione’s face,
“Have you tried angry Veela pecking her eyes out?”
She asked. This time a real grin spread over Ron’s tired face.
“No,” he said, “but I have tried her being beaten to death by evil house
elves.” Hermione laughed and replied, “House elves are creative, but I
like angry Veela best.”
From there the topic veered to happier subjects: Ron’s job, Harry, and
simple idle chat. They were enjoyed a nice conversation about Ron’s nephew,
or Percy’s son Pilumnus. Percy had married his Hogwarts sweetheart Penelope
Clearwater. Then, several years ago they were blessed with a son who had
turned out just like the infamous Weasley twins.
“A few days ago he got into the Floo powder and just happened to waltz
in on poor Snape!” Ron was telling Hermione, who was laughing at the toddler’s
antics when another loud BANG and enormous jolt interrupted them. Ron
and Hermione were thrown backwards and Hermione landed on top of Ron in
a rather uncomfortable position.
“All off for London,” called Bill’s hoarse voice.
“Er, Hermione could you get off me? We need to get off the bus now,”
said an embarrassed and very, very red Ron.
“So sorry,” muttered a crimson Hermione. Then, still red, they collected
their things, said goodbye to Bill, and stepped into the dark alley near
The Leaky Cauldron.
“It’s only a short walk from here and we’ll stay pretty dry if we go
under the shop signs,” Ron mused.
“Alright,” replied Hermione, who was still slightly pink, as she
took Ron’s hand in hers. Ron’s face turned “Weasley red” at this unexpected
gesture of affection, and they started to walk to the apartment.
It may have just been the weather, but it seemed to Ron that the sky
brightened slightly as he and Hermione walked down the deserted streets
of London on that rainy morning. ‘Forget Duana and Maximus,’ he thought,
this much was better than a thousand kisses from any girl any day.
A/N- And that children, is what we call major, major, full frontal fluff!
I’m grinning like mad at this. Actually, if it seems familiar to anyone
it’s a beta-ed, paragraphed version of what I had posted at ff.n. Hope
you liked it, my inspiration was cold medicine (try writing under the
influence of it the next time you have a cold, wheee!), buses, and my
overactive imagination. Thanks to Elanor Gamee for being a ROXin beta
reader and to whomever else I might send this to look over.
