Defining Secrets // Ron Weasley

Chapter Thirteen : A Peckish Owl and A Good Old Smack

Ron's POV:

Another day, another attack from Hedwig.

Every morning this happened. I would wake up against my will, scream at the sight of an owl on my chest, and upon recognising Hedwig, run to the mirror looking for peck marks. Today was no different. I rubbed over another red mark on my forehead and scowled. Hedwig twisted her head to the side, wide, innocent eyes staring back at me.

Unfortunately for me, I gave in. Those big eyes was all it took for every ounce of my anger to disappear. Hedwig wasn't the only one that knew the effect that look had on me. Just the thought of a familiar pair of black lashes blinking up at me was enough to make my head spin.

Rattling the thought from my head, I scoured the floor for a jumper. I settled on an old, brown, wool one to wear. It was small and a little snug around the arms, but the softness of the fabric was one of the few things that comforted me throughout winter. As well as comfort me through recent events.

El convinced me to let it rest, probably to not have the room to fill with the steam that left Hermione's ears, but that didn't mean I stopped thinking about it. Day and night, it ran through my head. And it didn't look like it was ever going to leave.

What the bloody hell was Hermione doing?

She above everybody knew how much Fred and I didn't get along. Sure, for whatever ridiculous reason, Fred was seen as attractive. I knew that much. But I always thought Hermione knew better than that. Maybe it was some kind of ridiculous bad boy allure she'd fallen for.

Hermione was smart, calculated, and could definitely hold her own. So the thought of her running off with my brother of all people was the very thing stopping me from letting it go. It was obvious she knew I wouldn't see it whichever way she did. Why else would Hermione keep it from me? And by the looks on Harry and El's faces, they clearly hadn't been told either. And you seriously could not have heard Ginny gasp louder.

Last night was spent groaning. Tossing and turning over in my bed until Harry's pillow plummeted to my face. I didn't bother throwing it back, instead chucking it to the ground so that he would have to get up and get it his bloody self.

By the time Hedwig woke me up Harry and I where the only one's left. I took his sleeping face as my opportunity to strike back. Sneaking towards my bed, cringing at the sounds of floorboards creaking, I grabbed the pillow as fast as I could and hurdled at Harry. Fast enough to run out the room before he could catch me. The door closed just in time for Harry's yells to muffle.

Breakfast was awkward. Hermione was on time like nothing had ever happened and Elise was distancing herself. Normally, the two sat together (chatting about what I could only assume was lipstick and homework) but today El was with me. Harry, confused by the switch, raised his eyebrows when I couldn't find a way to complain.

El's leg accidentally touched mine from under the table. She jerked it away so fast I felt more embarrassed than I would've been if she'd kept it there. My stomach felt like a pit watching El avoid my eyes. As if today wasn't already off to a bad start.

***

Elise's POV:

Breakfast ended pretty quickly after that. Harry practically ran over to Ginny at the first sight of tension and Hermione didn't stick around for much longer after that.

Ron stayed silent. I glanced at him expectantly, my thoughts twisted around in my head just like they'd been doing every day for weeks now. But when he refused to say anything, I looked away. I was already tired enough at the thousands of questions that my brain refused to let go.