A Harry Potter Fanfic: i do not own harry, ron, hermione or anything related to them or the series, j.k. rowling does, she's so lucky for that too...

This is just a short little tale about Hermione recieving a phone call from Ron.


It was just one more pleasant little summer holiday in England, but Hermione Granger felt exceptionally bored. She liked school, yes, she liked the learning, the experience of it all. It enthralled her. But, truth be told, what she really missed the most during the summer holidays was her friends, and in particular, Ron Weasley. Yes, Ronald. That red-haired, overly-freckeled, lanky nightmare who bugged the living daylights out of her. Sure, he was all these obnoxious things and more, but ever since she first met him she could not feel but be endeared to his personality. He was so differenet from her. He was bright and cheerful, and full of life. And best of all he had a sense of humor that Hermione full-well knew she lacked. His joy seemed to illuminate every room he stepped into.

On this particular day, Hermione was reading Bleak House, one of those long, overly-dramatic novels by Charles Dickens. She was nestled up comfortably on a little loveseat in her family living room when the phone rang. Since her parents were both at work during the daytime, it was up to her to pull her eyes, not to mention her concentration, away from the rivetingly dramatic soap-opera like novel and answer the telephone.

Sighing deeply, she did just that. "Yes, Hello, this is the Granger residence...Can I help you?", she asked dully.


Instantly, to her great surprise, Hermione recognized the voice of her friend, Ronald Weasley. He was shouting very loudly, indeed he never did get used to using a muggle phone line.

"Stop shouting, Ron. I can hear you perfectly fine if you talk in a normal, indoor voice."

"Oh, yeah...Sorry, I forgot...phones are just so weird..."

She could not help but smile at this darling sentiment, but didn't dare show such to Ron. "Why are you calling me Ron? Why not just an owl post if you want to communicate?"

"Oh--er, I wante to um..."

"Yes?", Hermione said a bit snippishly, she never was very paitent.

"I wantedto hear your voice, is all...", he sounded extremely embarressed. "Sorry, this was stupid I'll just write you or--"

"No, it's not stupid Ron, please don't hang up...Let's just talk."

"Yeah, but what about?", he was practically whinning now.

"I don't know, you think of something."

"Well, I got a letter from Harry last week and--"

"No, not about Harry, I mean--"

"Don't worry I get it...um, well I ate some skittles yesterday."

Hermione was taken aback. "What?"

"I ate some skittles, you know those little bright colored candies you told me about over the schoolyear...I ate some, we were in London--dreadful muggle shopping, and I saw some and convinced my dad to buy me some. They were good, like you said. Real fruity and juicy tasting."

"You ate some skittles?", Hermione repeated unbelieving the conversation they were having.


She could not help but giggle. "Aw--Oh, that's great Ronald."

"Yeah, way better than Burty Botts Every Flavor Beans."

"Oh, yes, definately." Hermione agreed. Although this was not nearly the kind of intellectual conversation she so craved for, it was a start. For once she and the young wizard that was practically her best friend were actually having a real talk.

And as Ron rambled onwards about muggle and wizard candy comparisons, Hermione felt her spirits lifting up intensely.