Like Clockwork: A Wizard Snapshot

By Len

Rating: PG

Category:  R/H of course

Summary:  They were better than Soaps, one Muggle-born witch once said.

Notes:  I luuuurve writing vignettes (also called ‘snapshots’ in the Due South world), and this one just popped out of my head, kicking and screaming.  It’s short, I know, but please let me know what you think!

Archive:  Just let me know so I can visit!

 

 

   It was two weeks away from winter finals.  Several students had suffered abrupt panic attacks and were being treated by Miss Pomfrey, the others were busy burying themselves in weighty tomes and crumpled rolls of notes. 

 

   “Will you stop?  Just stop!”

 

   All the Gryffindors in the common room paused for a moment and looked up from their studies.  The bellow they had heard belonged to none other than Ron Weasley, who was rapidly becoming famous throughout the school for the sheer volume his voice was able to reach.  It certainly seemed to shake the paintings on the walls.

 

   Or maybe that was just the portrait hole slamming shut after Hermione Granger.  Ron, being used to this sort of thing, managed to sneak through the door before it cut him in half.  He stayed doggedly on the heels of his friend.  “Hermione, listen to me!” he shouted. 

 

   She spun, bushy hair spinning out around her head.  “What’s that, Ron?  Listen to you?  Listen to you?” Hermione walked up to him until they were nose to nose.  Well, nose to chest.  Ron was one of the tallest boys in Gryffindor House.  “Why should I?  You never listen to me!  It’s always, ‘You’re such a know-it-all, Hermione’, or ‘Quit yapping and let me play Snap, Hermione’,” she yelled back, doing a rather amusing imitation of his voice.

 

   “I don’t!”

 

   “You do!  And I’ve had enough!”

 

   “But – but –“

 

   “Oh, lovely comeback,” Hermione said sarcastically.  The audience held their collective breaths.  Ron narrowed his eyes.

 

   “You’re such a hypocrite!” he finally exploded, after sputtering for a few more seconds.  “I’m supposed to take advice from you, but when I try to--” 

 

   “That, Ronald Weasley, is because I care!  I worry about you getting killed, or expelled, because *you* never seem to!  Well, I’m sorry if that makes me a doddering old granny, but that’s the way it is, so get used it!”

 

   The back of Ron’s neck – visible only to a group of fourth years sitting on the stairs – was turning a little pink.  The meaning of this reaction was unclear to them, but they were far too entertained to wonder much about it.  These shouting matches occurred like clockwork, forcing the more faint-of-heart students into hiding for a few hours until the latest storm had passed.  As one Muggle-born witch had pointed out: the Weekly Ron and Hermione Argument was even better than Soaps. 

 

   “You care, huh?  Well what about how much I care?” he bellowed, glaring.  “You think I give a damn about some slimey little seventh year?  No!  I only mentioned him because I thought you should know what you’re getting yourself into!”

 

   “I’m only tutoring him!” she yelled back.  “It’s not like we’re going to run off to Spain and elope!”

 

   “Oh?”  Ron seemed oddly cheered at this.  “Fine.  Good!”  Ron cleared his throat, and continued in a more moderate tone.  “Because he really is a bad sort.  Watch your back around him, will you?”

 

   Hermione smiled.  The rapt audience around them began to breathe again.  “If I don’t,” she said rather shyly, “I’m sure you’ll watch it for me.”

 

   Ron nodded decisively.  “Bloody right.”

 

   “Don’t swear.”

 

   “Right.”

 

   And click.  As if someone had flicked a muggle eceltricity switch, the argument was over and all the tension fled the room.  Ron and Hermione stepped back until there was a comfortable distance between them, grinning sheepishly.

 

   “Fancy a game of chess?” Ron asked pleasantly.

 

   “Only if the winner gets to play me in a game of ‘Hogwarts Trivia’.”

 

   “Deal.”  The chess pieces were set up.  “By the way, Hermione – about that tutoring.  I was thinking it might be a good idea if—“

 

   “Fine, Ron.  But if you’re going to be there, stay at least three tables away.  And no threatening him.  And no rude comments.”

 

   “Hermione!  I would never!”

 

   His brown-eyed friend let out a rather unladylike snort at this.  Ron continued to mutter as he moved a pawn forward.  “I just thought since I’ll be doing homework as well…”

 

   “It’s fine, Ron.”  Hermione mirrored his move with her own piece.  “And…you know…thanks.”

 

   “Anytime,” he replied, turning a little pink.  He proceeded to trounce Hermione in chess once again, then she wiped the floor with him in Hogwarts Trivia, and all was again right with the world.  Until the next week, at least.