Someday You'll Thank Me
AN: Takes place in Book 3.
Harry's firebolt was taken away from him. He had Voldemort plotting to kill him and now that escaped prisoner, Sirius Black after him. His 3rd year in Hogwarts wasn't looking good and to top it off, his 2 best friends weren't getting along either. He couldn't have this; it was Hermione and Ron that kept him alive this far and if they're not all one happy trio and if Harry ends up having to face Voldemort again, alone, he might not get lucky. He was tired of their bickering. He had to do something to make them talk.
Harry tapped his foot against the floor as he sat on his bed. What could he do? They weren't talking. He'd have to do it so they'd be in the situation where they had to talk. The only idea that came to mind was that he had to trap them. Harry smiled. He got an idea how to get his best friends talking again. It was risky, maybe even a little crazy and they'd be mad at him for it but it was crazy enough to work. He decided to go for it. He got off his bed and went to find Ron and Hermione.
He found Ron first. He was with his brothers Fred and George in the common room talking about Scabbers.
"Hey, Ron," Harry said, "Can you do me a favor? It's important."
Ron hesitated and sighed. "Okay." He got up and followed Harry out the common room. "What's up, Harry?"
"I can't find my…" he quickly thought up something, "quidditch gloves."
"They'd probably be in the quidditch storage closet," Ron suggested. "Why do you need them? For quidditch practice?"
"I um, want to put my initials on them," Harry lied.
They reached the closet and Harry pick-pocketed Ron's wand when he wasn't looking. "Wow, they've got a lot of junk in here," Ron said.
"Stay here," Harry said, "I'll go check potion's class. I think I left it there."
"Why would you leave that in potions?" Ron questioned but before Harry answered him, he left the closet. Ron sighed and began to dig through the articles for Harry's quidditch gloves. "I think Harry's taking lessons from Neville. And why is he looking for his gloves? Shouldn't he be trying to get his firebolt back?"
Finding Hermione was simple. Harry knew she was in the library. When he walked inside she was putting a load of books on the table and going through them.
"Harry if you're going to hound me for telling Professor McGonagall about the firebolt you can just forget it," she muttered, "I don't have the time. Next time I'll think twice about your safety."
"That's not what I was going to say," Harry said. "I'm not mad at you for that anymore. I know you meant well."
"Can you come outside with me for a minute?" he asked. "I need help with something."
"But I have to finish this," she insisted.
"Please, Hermione?" He pulled on her arm. "You're clever. I'm sure you'll finish this all up later."
"Oh, all right," she grunted.
Harry led her out of the library and down the hall next to the quidditch storeroom. "I'm having trouble casting a spell."
"Which spell?" she asked, taking out her wand.
"The spell Professor Lupin taught us in class."
"The one with the Boggart?"
"No," he said, then swiped the wand from her hand.
Harry opened the door and pushed Hermione in. She took one look at Ron and turned around. Ron fell back into a bunch of racing brooms.
"Harry! What's the big idea?" she demanded.
"Someday you'll thank me!" Harry shouted and slammed the door. He used a charm to lock the door then walked away.
Hermione tried the doorknob and hit the door with her hand. "Harry! Harry!"
Ron ran to the door and began to bang on it as Hermione did the same. "Harry! This isn't funny! I'd expect this from Fred and George, but you? Harry, let me out of here! Come on!"
"You're going to be in big trouble, Harry!" Hermione shouted. "You just wait!"
"I'm starting to wish I went to the cargo car instead, Harry!" Ron yelled, "You tricked me! You really didn't need help finding your quidditch gloves, did you? Harry!"
"I need to study," Hermione cried, "let me out! You'll be sorry! Very, very sorry!"
Hermione and Ron banged on the door for about thirty minutes, paused then pounded on the door shouting again. Ron began patting his robes for his wand. "Oh, fiddlesticks…he took my wand!"
Hermione picked up a broom and smacked Ron over the head with the bristle end. "This is your fault!"
"My fault!" he gasped, covering his head and taking the broom away. "You told McGonagall about his firebolt!"
"You know why he's doing this, you know." She muttered, crossing her arms, "He's trying to get us to talk."
"Well, it's not going to work," Ron groaned, sliding down the opposite wall from her, "because I have nothing to say."
"Neither do I," Hermione said and sat down.
They sat in silence for about ten minutes, looking back at each other or avoiding each other's eyes. Hermione was nervously taping her fingers on her knees and Ron was twirling a beater's bat on the floor as if he was trying to dig a hole.
Hermione spoke first, "I wonder how long Harry intends to keep us in here. I have to get back to the library."
"Well, if you weren't taking so many classes," Ron snapped, "you wouldn't have to worry about that."
"I have it worked out with Professor McGonagall," she insisted.
"It's a secret."
"I thought there was something you weren't telling me and Harry."
"You wouldn't understand, anyway," she muttered.
"Hey, the only reason you're trying so hard is because you're muggleborn." Ron snapped.
"So?" she muttered. "I'm better at magic than you!"
Ron groaned. "If I had the money for a better wand…"
"Oh, yeah? Well, well, you're too tall for your age!"
Ron chuckled, "is that the best you can do? Come on, Hermione."
"You're a just a poor boy," she added quickly, "and you never take anything seriously! You're always taking everything for a joke!"
"I didn't think your cat trying to eat Scabbers was a joke!" he growled. "And you think you're better than everyone else."
"Cats chase rodents, Ron!" she hissed, "and cats are more useful than rats and mice anyway! And you're wrong!"
"All he does is sleep and eat," he admitted, "but he's still a good pet!"
"If I'm not mistaken, Ron Weasley, you're the big rat!"
"What?" he gasped.
"You heard me."
"This is nuts."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "I can't believe we're fighting over something so stupid as this!"
"I thought you'd be used to it by now."
"Well, I know you've always hated me, Ron."
"I never said that!" he exclaimed.
"Not in so many words," she muttered. "But you did tease me about how to pronounce Leviosa in front ever everyone and you didn't care when you saw me crying."
"I was only joking around!"
"I didn't find it funny."
"Don't be so touchy, Hermione." Ron said, "and we did come and save you from that mountain troll."
"But it wasn't your idea, was it?" she demanded. "It was Harry's."
"Yes, Harry thought about it but he wouldn't have taken the troll without me. And we wouldn't have gotten past the giant chess set without me either! How about some gratitude, huh?"
"Thanks," she muttered, "but I helped Harry through the fire."
"And I don't hate you," Ron said.
"Then how do you feel about me?" she questioned.
Ron blushed. "Well, I've never really thought about it before."
"Well, now we have some time," Hermione insisted. "Come on, Ron, what do you really think about me?"
Ron sighed and hesitated. He wasn't sure how to respond. "I think you're very smart and you know how to solve puzzles."
Yes…wait…no." He stood up. "You're the only person I know who has enough guts to take 2 classes at once and be able to do well in them."
"And, um--well…you've got pretty eyes and--" he trailed off. "You're my friend, Hermione. The other gils at Hogwarts can't compare to you. I'm not sure what else to say.
"Tell me how you feel about me now," he explained.
"Oh, all right." She sighed and closed her eyes in concentration then opened them, "well, I like how you always see the bright side on things and you don't think anything negative. You're probably the only guy in the whole school that could make me laugh."
"Go on," he prompted.
"And, even if you are too tall for your age," she continued, "I like your height. I mean…you're tall and I like that. I guess I've always liked tall boys…especially redheaded ones with freckles and a sense of humor." Hermione blushed big time and covered her face. "Augh! That came out all wrong!"
Ron blushed too but didn't seem offended, "it's okay, Hermione. Came out just fine to me."
"Really?" she asked, peaking through the cracks between her fingers.
"You're not just saying that?"
"Nope. I mean it."
Oh, Ron!" she exclaimed, pulling her face down. She stood up and smiled.
They stood at the opposite ends of the room, smiling at each other for about a minute, not sure how to explain their emotions. Then Ron stepped to the middle of the room and Hermione came to him.
"We really should thank Harry for this," Hermione said.
"Yeah," Ron mumbled. He looked down and slowly put his big palm over the back of Hermione's hand. He rubbed her knuckles. Hermione stared at his hand caress hers. She froze.
"R-Ron--" she stuttered, "I-I--"
"Shhh," he hushed, closing his palm over her small hand. "I really do like you, Hermione. I don't know why you'd accuse me of hating you."
"Then how come you were so mean to me in the beginning?" she asked.
"I wasn't mean," he insisted. "You were just a showoff and I wasn't thinking before I talked. Anyway…I'm sorry. I really don't mean any of that nonsense. Besides, I'm a much nicer guy than Malfoy."
"You're right," she said nodding, remembering how he pretended to be in more pain than he actually was when Buckbeak had attacked him. "And, for the record, I like you too, Ron."
He squeezed her hand. "Wow…" He was speechless. He'd never felt this way before.
"Should we wait until Harry comes back?" she questioned.
Ron shook his head and pulled her hand. He interlocked his fingers with hers. Hermione looked into his blue eyes and smiled. She knew what was going to happen next and couldn't help but be excited, at least a little bit. She didn't fight him on it. She knew this would be her only chance. With his free hand, Ron cupped Hermione's face and softly rubbed her cheek. She placed her hand over his and stepped up on her tippy-toes. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips to receive her gift--a kiss-- her first.
After waiting for an hour, Harry believed Ron and Hermione settled down. He went down to let them out. "I hope I won't have to do this again," he said as he reached the door. He freed the lock and began to open the door. "Well, I hope you've settled your differences and--" he stopped in his tracks and stared. His plan had worked! But a bit more than he had expected. At least they weren't fighting anymore.
Ron and Hermione were about to kiss but ceased quickly and looked to Harry to express their gratitude. Ron took his hand down from Hermione's face but kept his other hand around hers.
"Harry, you're the best!" Hermione cried. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"Yeah, thanks a bunch!" Ron exclaimed, "Could you just give us a few minutes?" He put his palm up to Hermione's shoulder. "Thanks, Harry!"
"Oh, thank me later," Harry smirked and stepped out, closing the door behind him. "I'll see you two in a bit." Harry stepped away from the door, unable to keep his grin under control.
Ron and Hermione turned to back to each other.
"Now, where were we?" Ron asked, reaching his hand up to her face.
"I think we were right here," she replied, standing up on her toes again.
Ron leaned down and his lips touched Hermione's. It was the best feeling. Tomorrow, they were going to give Harry a couple hundred thank-yous, invite him out the Leaky Cauldron and really thank him. Good Ol' Harry, they wouldn't know where they'd be without him.
The End. And J.K Rowling owns the characters, not me! Oh, and I changed the part where Ron says "mudblood" to "muggleborn." Thanks for telling me that, guys! I know Ron and Hermione get mad at each other a lot, but I don't think Ron would get that mad at Hermione.