Such A Prat

Completely Fluffy. This is what staying up late with a limited amount of sugar does to you. BE WARNED! HermionexRon.

Author's Notes: God. I have no idea where this came from. I had one quote randomly in my head, and..look what happened! DARN NEVER-STOPPING BRAIN!

Disclaimer: I don't own, blah blah, you know the story.

Pairings: Hermione + Ron This story


Hermione could pull her hair out of her head. Ron just never quit with the witty remarks, the rude slurrs, the way he treated her as "one of the guys." The way he ignored her and, at the same time, had an annoyingly close watch on her. The way he made it seem like he didn't care what the hell she did, while at the same time showing he did care. She hated his stupid mind games. His stupid words. His stupid...self.

Currently, she was seated in front of the fireplace, doing her homework. Honestly, not the best place to do homework, but it was the only place she could get some relaxation. Upstairs, the girls were squealing about boys. In the library, people couldn't stop talking about the upcoming Ball. In the Great Hall, well... let's just say that's where most of the couples were "forming."

Hermione stared into her blank parchment, as if waiting for her D.A.D.A. essay to write itself. She wasn't sure what put her off in today's "I hate Ron, he's such a dolt, I hope he falls off his broom. Oh my god, that's horrible!" mood. It was just ... his haughtiness. How he and Harry talked about all the girls they'd bring to the dance in front of her, not even thinking. Not even caring.

But it wasn't that Hermione was jealous. Of course not. No. Jealous of what! A red haired, freckle-faced, annoying, bossy, headstrong, rude, obnoxious, git of a boy?

Precisely, her head told her. She shook away her thoughts and started writing down her essay.

An animagus is a person who ...

She knew what an animagus was. She knew it. It was in her head, somewhere... But at the moment, all she could think of was a certain red haired, freckle-faced, annoying, bossy, headstrong, rude, obnoxious, git of a boy.

This is stupid! she scolded herself. You're supposed to be writing an essay! Not thinking about boys. Honestly, what has gotten into you?

An animagus is a person who can change into the animal of their choice at will.

She scoffed at herself. This was most definitly the worst essay she ever written. Well, the worst sentence. But either way, it was bad, and it wasn't going to get much better. Throwing the parchment into the fire, she watched it burn and crinkle, enjoying the sound.

"Wow, Hermione, I didn't think you'd be one to be a pyro."

Hermione closed her eyes and pretended that she didn't hear him. Maybe he'd go away. No, he won't. He'll just nose into your business and say 'are you all right?' twenty times. Then, maybe, ask if you know a pretty girl for him to go to the Ball with.

"I'm not a pyro, just fed up with this stupid D.A.D.A. essay," she muttered, gathering her books.

"Where're you going?" He asked.

He's so nosy, she hissed in her head. He really ought to-

"Someplace where it's quiet," she replied quickly, starting to walk up the stairs.

"Wait, 'Mione?"

Here it comes, she told herself. 'Do you know if Lavendar is taken for the ball?' 'Is Cho still emotional? Harry wanted to know.' 'Who is Ginny going with, I'll beat him to a pulp.'

Turning around, she walked to Ron. "Mhm?"

"I was wondering if you could help me with some, uh, y'know...girl problems."

"I knew it." He glanced at her with the biggest puppy eyes, and she couldn't help but melt. "Ugh, fine," she grumbled, sitting down on the couch across from Ron. "But it better not take long."

Ron grinned. "It won't, I promise." She rested her head in her hand, ready to hear his sob story about how all the pretty girls are taken. "Well, there's this one girl who I've had my eye on for, uh, a really, um, long time..."

Oh, I hope it's not someone I know. That would be so...awkward. I'd hate being the messanger.

"She's really pretty, and nice, and smart, too... She's, uh, perfect. And, um, I need your help."

Hermione sighed. "Okay, what do you need my help with?"

"Well, you see, I don't think she likes me. I mean, we get in, y'know, fights all the time, and we always argue. She probably hates me, but the truth is...I, uh, her."

Hermione took a deep breath.

"And, you know, we're complete opposites. She's brilliant, I'm dumb... She's pretty, I'm...well, y'know. She's...well, she's brave and I..."

"Okay," She cut him off, not wanting to hear another word. She was not only completely dissapointed, but also utterly jealous. Yes, she would admit it. She was insanely jealous over whatever girl tickled Ron's fancy. "You should just...ask her. Sometimes opposites attract...and stuff." And stuff? Pathetic.

"It', listen, 'Mione..."

It's Lavendar. Or Pavarti. Just don't be Pansy, that would be ridiculous.

"'Mione, did I ever tell you that you're the smartest, most annoying, headstrong, bushy-haired bookworm I have ever met?" he grinned. Hermione oddly didn't feel upset or hurt. It was as if this was his way of being nice.

Shaking her thoughts, she got to the point. "So...uh...who is this girl? I can ask her if she likes you," she breathed.

He leaned his head in close and, before kissing her, whispered, "Could you ask Hermione Granger if she would like to go to the dance with me?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. NO! This is the annoying RON WEASLEY we're talking about! YOUR BEST FRIEND! "I could do that..."

"If not, I could always ask Lavendar..."

"You're such a prat, Ronald Weasley," she said, kissing him.