Forever Knight [Harmione]

Chapter 21: Learn

Ron shook his head, sighing in resignation.  “You’re hopeless.  You both are.  It’s like a horrible train-wreck waiting to happen but I couldn’t help but keep watching it to its catastrophic end.”

“That’s so inspiring.  Sheer fecking poetry.”

“Well, it’s true!  You love her.  She doesn’t want you to, and I don’t even know where to begin sorting what the hell she’s thinking. And even if you get past all that anyway, you both still belong in different worlds!  It’s a complete disaster!”

Harry might have heard his heart crack the tiniest bit. Ron wasn’t handing out greeting cards.  “Is that what you think, Ron?  That there’s nothing for me and Hermione?”

“Yes!”  Ron sighed.  “No!  It’s both!  It’s just… on the one hand, I see your point, on another I see… I see her point.  In a typical Harry-Hermione fashion, you’re using your heart and she’s using her mind, so you’re both right and you’re both wrong!  Merlin’s bullocks, all this emotional chow-chow is EXHAUSTING, how the hell do you sensitive people deal with it all the time?”

“Wait… you know what ‘emotional chow-chow’ means?”

“Everybody knows what emotional chow-chow means.”

Harry growled.  “Well, I’m not everyone, am I?”

“Yeah.  You’re so different.  You’re the Chosen One.  Boohoo.  Nobody loves me.  Everybody hates me. I’m going to eat some worms.”

Harry bristled.  “Well, if you’re so smart, what the hell—“

“Chow-chow is sliced vegetables pickled in mustard, so ‘emotional chow-chow’ is a slanted reference to the proverbial pupu-platter of angst delectably displayed for all to pick and sink their teeth into.  Like hors d’ oeuvres.”

“I don’t know who you are but if you don’t tell me where Ron is, I’m blasting your bullocks off.”

“Blame Gabrielle.  She practically has me memorizing this stuff.  Have to say, the food angle made it easy to remember.”

Harry stared at him with a certain degree of concern.  “Are you sure it’s healthy to date her, mate?”

“Oh, not like she’s sucking my blood or anything.”

Harry sniffed.  “Point for you, but at least Hermione’s not transfiguring me into a girl.”

“I’m not the one who got his ass kicked by a woman last night.”

Ron was on a roll, it seemed.  Harry scowled.  “That’s low.  I told you that in confidence.”

“You relinquished that trust when you ragged me about Gabrielle, yet again.  Frankly, I’m getting tired of hearing you tell me that she’s too young, or too anything.  Can’t you just be happy for me?”

“Fine.  I’m happy for you, alright?”

“You don’t sound like you mean it.”

“Well, for feck’s sake, Ron!  What… do you want me to hug you or something?  Share a moment?  Here, put your head on my shoulder, Ickle Ronniekins.”

Ron scoffed but laughed, too.  “As titillating as all this gender reassignment is, I’ll pass.  And we ought to go back to talking about you, and this thing you have with Hermione.  Are you setting yourself up to be heartbroken again?”

“You sure cut right to it, boyo.”

“Hey, real men get to the point.”

“It’s practically a Homo Erectus motto.  And to answer your question, yes, I’m setting myself up, but hopefully not for heartbreak.  I want her back.  Is that so bad?”