Ron Weasley X Reader 1 | A Wild World, A Wad of Wizards, And A Wonderful Weasley

Chapter 15

Visiting Hagrid had to have been the highlight of my day, especially after I'd managed to lose a point for Gryffindor.

I really felt awful about it. It was only my first week of school, and I was already losing points for my house? Surely, this was only a taste of what the rest of the year would be like. . .

Really, I was quite thankful for Hermione. She'd been trying to comfort me about it once she noticed I was upset. ("Of course, no one will be happy about it-") As I'd said, she was trying. I don't think she made me feel much better, though.

The clock had almost struck three by the time Harry, Ron, and I left the castle to make our way over to Hagrid's wooden house that sat on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I was sort of disappointed I had to leave Hermione inside, though she insisted that she was happier going to the library.

On our way down to Hagrid's house, Harry grabbed my hand and held it as he pulled me along. He must've noticed how hard I was thinking.

Hermione seemed to be on my mind a lot now. It was odd having a friend. I'd never had a friend before.

Sure, I had Harry, and I love Harry, but I don't think he counts as a friend. He was my twin brother. He didn't really have a choice as to whether we were friends or not. Besides, the Dursleys always treated us like the same person anyway.

It was sort of hard to be mean to someone when they knew exactly what it was like to feel the same things that I was feeling. That's why I never hated Harry. I never even disliked Harry. I'd always loved him. He'd always been my best friend. And I'd always been his.

But now it was weird. It was weird because we no longer had to be each other's best friends. Did that mean we no longer were?

Were Ron and Hermione our new best friends? Were we going to split apart? I'd already been seeing a lot less of him. . .

The worst part is that I hadn't really noticed. Hermione had always kept me distracted, and now that I was here with Harry, I was thinking about her.

Was she my new best friend? Was that bad?

I'd noticed Harry and Ron—Ron especially—weren't too fond of her. That would probably mean that the four of us wouldn't really hang out. . .

I didn't get it, though. I didn't get why they didn't like her. She'd been a good friend for the time I'd known her.

Perhaps it was because she was smarter than both of them combined, because she definitely was. There wasn't a doubt in my mind about that. Hermione was practically a genius!

Sitting outside of Hagrid's front door was an unsettlingly large crossbow and an equally large pair of galoshes.

Harry was the one who knocked, and we were quickly greeted by a frantic scrambling from inside as several booming barks rung out into the air. Then came Hagrid's also booming voice, "Back, Fang—back."

Hagrid's face peered at us through a small crack in the door before pulling it open, still focused on the dog that must've been behind him.

"Hang on," he told us before turning back around, "Back, Fang."

He let the three of us in while struggling to keep a hold on an enormous black boarhound's collar. The dog really was massive. I was sort of intimidated by it; I could clearly understand why it might've been named Fang.

Inside of the house, there was only one room. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, there was a copper kettle boiling on the open fire, and there was a massive bed in the corner with a patchwork quilt laying over it.