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

Chapter 24

With November came both snow and Quidditch, two things I'd never been able to enjoy back at the Durselys'.

Obviously, I never really knew of quidditch before, so it wasn't their fault I wasn't able to enjoy that.

As for the snow, the most me and Harry ever got to do with it while the Dursleys were around was shovel the driveway.

Only, as much as the cold seemed to boost my mood with the whimsical look of the snow and the fact that Dudley despised the winter, Snape's mood only seemed to worsen.

In fact, he'd had the nerve to steal my copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. Well, alright, it wasn't mine, but I'd lent it from the library, which I figured was close enough.

Up until a very recent turn in my life, the closest I'd ever gotten to owning anything was borrowing, and I really did enjoy the book.

Harry and I had been sharing it to calm our nerves about this upcoming Quidditch match—our first real match ever.

Sure, we'd been training a ton, but training wasn't anywhere near actually getting up in front of the whole school and playing. I was properly terrified.

And there went Snape, taking away the book we'd found to calm ourselves as well as five points from Gryffindor!

That stupid limp he had probably had the world to do with his sour mood, not that he was much more pleasant in a good one.

Honestly, I was so worked up about it that I couldn't even manage to really focus on my Charms homework. . . or perhaps I was trying really hard not to focus on my Charms homework that I'd gotten myself all riled up over something totally unrelated. . .

I liked the first option better. Much better.

Suddenly, Harry stood from where we all—him, Hermione, Ron, and I—sat by a window in the common room. "I'm going to ask Snape if I can have Quidditch Through the Ages back."

"Better you than me," both Hermione and Ron spoke in unison, but I thought Harry was actually being quite brilliant. Why should we be afraid of some greasy-haired freak?

I shot out of my seat, immediately forgetting about any and all homework, "I'm coming with you!"

"Great, now you've gone and lost it, too," Ron muttered, reaching up to pat my shoulder, "Farewell, (y/n), it's been nice knowing you."

"Impressive, Ron," I wiped his hand off my shoulder, "Farewell's a pretty big word for you."

He glared at me, "At least I know better than to go asking Snape for stuff."

"Oh shut it," I huffed while crossing my arms, "Me and Harry will be back with Quidditch Through the Ages, you'll see."

"There's no point in arguing with a professor," Hermione stated with a small sigh.

As awful as her agreeing with Snape was, Hermione had always been quick to point out that he was still one of our professors and that that demanded a certain level of respect.

I reckoned Snape could hardly be considered a professor, so he should hardly get any respect from the title.

"There's no point in arguing with us," Harry argued, grabbing onto my hand, "Our minds are made up, Hermione."

With that, we walked right out of the portrait hole, and Harry began to tell me how he was sure Snape wouldn't refuse us so long as there were other teachers listening. As I'd said, he was being pretty brilliant at the moment.

"I've never seen the staff room before," I admitted in a whisper as me and Harry stood in front of the door. I didn't know why I was whispering, but I figured the knot in my stomach from being so close to a room so full of professors might've had something to do with it.

Harry nodded in agreement as he reached out a fist and knocked, speaking in the same hushed tone as I was, "Me neither."

No one answered, so he knocked again. Still, there was no response.

Then, Harry—perhaps losing a bit of his brilliance—pushed the door slightly open, leaving the two of us to peer in through a slight crack between it and the doorframe.

Unfortunately, it was only our two least favorite staff members inside—Filch and Snape. Snape's hands were busy holding his robes up above his knees while Filch was handling some bandages for one of Snape's leg that was horribly mangled and very bloody.

"Blasted thing," Snape hissed, "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Both Harry and I turned to look at one another, which he swiftly took as his cue to quietly shut the door-

"POTTERS!" Snape quickly dropped his robes to hide his leg underneath them once again.

Harry gulped, "We just wondered if we could have our book back."

Snape was furious, "GET OUT! OUT!" So we did.

We left as quickly as we could before Snape could do worse than yell at us. We sprinted all the way back upstairs, completely out of breath by the time we made it up.

"Did you get it? What's the matter?" Ron asked, his curiosity immediately obvious, and I was sure he was just waiting until he could rub it in my face that he was right and that we were fools for ever believing we could just go and ask Snape for something.

Harry was fast to share what had just happened with Ron and Hermione in a low whisper.

"You know what this means?" He finished his story while still completely out of breath. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him—he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

"No—he wouldn't," Hermione rejected the idea with wide eyes, "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Why wouldn't he," I asked, for once not on the same page as her.

Ron shook his head disapprovingly, "Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something. I'm with Harry and (y/n). I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

Surprisingly, I found Ron to be pretty good at asking the important questions. I found them to be so important, in fact, that I couldn't help but lay awake in bed wondering them.

I was tossing and turning for hours with Ron's voice echoing in my head until eventually, my movement was met with a sharp exhale from another bed.

"(Y/n), please," Hermione sounded utterly exhausted, "Go to sleep!" A tired chorus of agreement sounded throughout most of the dorm room.

"Right, sorry," I whispered back to all of the girls I'd apparently been keeping up.

Harry had never been this light of a sleeper.

Word Count: 1162