Disclaimer - I do not own 'Harry Potter', or 'It Must Be Love' - they belong to J.K. Rowling and Madness respectively.
Chapter 5
Ron was sulking. This caused everyone to avoid the lounge for fear of giving him any excuse to snap. There was only one rule when Ron was extremely angry: avoid him at all costs. This became very annoying, as it was raining outside, and they had to walk round the house to get to the kitchen. Everyone was seriously considering asking Ron if he could sulk elsewhere but realised that would be violating the aforementioned rule of avoiding Ron whilst he sulked. Finally, Harry decided to brave Ron’s wrath, as Ginny was getting extremely annoyed with having to frequently redo her mop (which is what her hair turned into after the rain was through with it), and Harry had not forgotten the effectiveness of her Bat-Bogey-Hex.
“Ron?” Harry called. He got no answer, and turned to leave, until he received a look from his wife, conveying that maybe he should try it three rooms nearer. “Ron?” he grumbled, through the wall next to the lounge this time.
“Meh,” came the reply.
Harry gave Ginny a beseeching look as she took Ron’s ’reply’ to be an invitation to go in and shoved Harry forward. On the second try, she managed to get him through the door, as he was too busy rubbing his nose from where it had crashed into the door frame to complain. I would have expected more accuracy from a Chaser, he thought, before attempting to talk to Ron. Eventually, he decided on a neutral topic - food.
“Um, we were wondering, what do you want for dinner?”
Ron shrugged. “Don’t care.” Though Ron seemed to be considering the matter, his face screwed up in concentration as Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot anxiously. “Lasagna?”
“Uh, no, sorry, can’t do that,” Harry explained apologetically. “See, to do that someone would have to go outside and pick the tomatoes, and everyone’s gone on strike from going outside. Especially Ginny,” Harry added in an undertone, rubbing his arm from where it had hit the door frame.
“Why is the whole world against me?” Ron wailed, falling onto his knees with his arms flailing dramatically, as Harry backed away from him with a look of terror, trying to figure out who he was more afraid of when they were angry: Ron or Ginny.
“I, um, don’t know?” he answered cautiously, backing hastily towards the door.
“I mean,” Ron continued, unintentionally blocking Harry’s escape route as he slumped against the door. “It seems like nothing’s going my way!”
“Tell me about it,” Harry agreed, though not quite loud enough for Ron to hear.
“First, Claire gets annoyed with me about the whole Angela thing, which, by the way, is not my fault!” Harry nodded, trying not to make it too obvious that he was sizing up the window. “Then I have another fight with Hermione - and I was only trying to help!”
“Yeah, absolutely,” Harry agreed, edging slowly closer to the window.
“And, well, Hermione deserves a category all to herself! Actually, it’s Hermione’s fault that I had that row with Claire! If she hadn’t called her Angela - which she knew wasn’t her name - I wouldn’t be in trouble! Also, you know it’s Hermione’s fault that I couldn’t go to dinner with Ang - I mean, Claire, tonight? You see, if I hadn’t been so mad at Hermione, I would have…”
Harry scowled, before remembering to agree with whatever Ron was saying now. He didn’t really need to pay attention; if anyone asked him what Ron was talking about, just answering ‘Hermione’ would pretty much cover it. Damn. The window was locked.
“And then, to top it all off, we can’t have lasagna for dinner! Can you believe it?”
“Yeah.” Harry was continuing with his agreement, but this time he got a funny look from Ron. “Er - I mean, no!”
“Harry, were you even listening to me?” Harry straightened up, moving away from the window with regret.
“Yes! Of course I was! Uh - Hermione!” he blurted out, like a child being accused of sleeping in class. But his answer seemed to satisfy Ron, who slumped down on the floor again, his head buried in his hands.
“It’s always Hermione, isn’t it?” Ron’s muffled voice piped up. “Whenever I find I great girl, what is it that always breaks us up? Hermione. She’s never as smart as Hermione, or Hermione says something, or…” Harry groaned. All he wanted was a link-way between the kitchen and the rest of the house, which didn’t include braving the relentless downpour, so he could have some dinner without bats flying out of his nose. “Always Hermione! Even when all I want is some dinner, no, somehow Hermione puts a stop to it!” Harry actually had a legitimate excuse to focus his attention on anything other than the top ten things Ron hates about Hermione, as an owl was dive bombing the window, as he used 'Alohamora' to open it and retrieve the letter. “Who is it?” Ron broke off to ask Harry’s dripping hair (his face was indistinguishable due to the rain in which he’d had to stick his head into).
“Hermione,” Harry’s hair admitted, as he looked with concern at Ron’s head banging repeatedly against the wall behind him.
Ron,
I really need to talk to you. Can you meet me at The Hog’s Head tomorrow at eleven?
Hermione
“You know, I really don’t think that parchment’s going to change colour -”
“Reveal a secret code -”
“Scream out ‘I LOVE YOU’ -”
“Detonate itself - though I sort of wish it would, just to see the look of satisfaction on your face that something happened, even if it did singe your eyebrows -”
“Transform into blue and purple spotted singing socks -”
“Or anything apart from what it already says, no matter how many times you read it, Ron!” Fred exclaimed, aided by George, with a touch of frustration after watching Ron re-read the scrap of parchment for what must have been over the hundredth time. “Do we even need to guess who it’s from?” Ron looked up from the parchment clutched in his hand to glare at the twins briefly, before returning to it.
“Well, no-one other than Hermione has been able to boggle what little excuse for a brain Ron has,” George noted with an approving nod from Fred. “Alright, so Ron’s always been confused by females in general, but no-one can do it as remarkably as Hermione. I guess this is where being clever comes in useful!”
Ron glared more furiously at his brothers.
“Why are you here anyway? Don’t you have nonsense to invent, money to count or work to do or something? Anything?”
“Well, yeah,” George admitted.
“But this is more fun!” Fred finished.
Ron scowled, not sure what he wanted more, food or to avoid his brothers' teasing. But, after George's rousing rendition of "It must be love, looove, love!" he decided that no amount of his mother's cooking was worth it.
“Why do you care anyway, Ron?” Ginny asked as her brother made his rapid departure from the table. Ron paused, wondering uncomfortably if she had somehow been reading his thoughts. His mind was put to rest after her next sentence, until her next sentence sunk in, that is. “Aren’t you meant to be dating Claire?” Ron looked dumbfounded for a minute, causing further hysterics from the twins.
When Is Too Late? by Oppungo
Chapter Notes: Many thanks to my brilliant beta, songbook99!