Oh, OH
Ron descended the stairs of Gryffindor Tower with a newfound confidence after the previous night. Something about her carefree stride made both Harry and Hermes look up at her, curious yet somewhat wary. With a mischievous smile, Ron made her way over to her friends and dramatically flopped down in the space between them on the sofa.
Harry looked at her with a mix of surprise and amusement, but Hermes, on the other hand, immediately tensed. He wasn’t used to seeing Ron so… affectionate (though she was always affectionate with her family, it wasn’t something she usually showed with him). He tried to maintain his composure, but the warmth rising to his cheeks betrayed him.
Ron glanced at both of them, as if evaluating their reactions, and finally focused on Hermes, who seemed even more rigid than usual.
"Lift up your book, Hermes," she requested, pointing at the thick Potions tome in his hands.
"Excuse me?" Hermes replied, sounding offended.
"Just do as you’re told."
Hermes frowned, as if about to protest, but eventually sighed and complied, raising the book with an eye-roll. Wasting no time, Ron made herself comfortable, resting her head on Hermes’s lap and stretching her legs across Harry’s.
Hermes held his breath. His heart began to pound at the sensation of Ron’s weight against him. This was… what was she doing? He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been this close to him, especially not Ron. He glanced at Harry for some kind of reaction, but his friend merely looked amused, watching them with a knowing grin. Apparently, he didn’t see anything odd in Ron’s actions. For Hermes, however, it was almost unbearable.
Blissfully unaware of Hermes’s growing panic, Ron sighed contentedly and snuggled closer, closing her eyes as if she were about to fall asleep.
“Mmm, I think I deserve a little pampering after last night’s awful sleep, don’t you think?” she murmured with a sly smile, sneaking a glance at him.
Hermes swallowed, clearly uncomfortable but trying to act as if he were in control.
“Pampering?” he asked, attempting to keep the tremor out of his voice. His eyes darted between Ron’s head on his lap and Harry’s amused expression, as though seeking some kind of escape.
Ron didn’t give him much time to think. Without a second thought, she took Hermes’s hand and placed it on her head.
“Yes, like this. Like when Dad would try to calm us down to sleep,” she said, settling in even more and closing her eyes, making it clear she didn’t plan on moving any time soon.
Hermes felt the air get trapped in his lungs. He tried to ignore the gentle weight of Ron against him and began to awkwardly stroke her hair, as if he were doing it for the first time. Every time his fingers brushed against her wavy hair, a jolt of nerves shot up his arm. Was it normal to feel this nervous? Why couldn’t he just relax?
‘Oh, Merlin, can she hear my heart beating? What a disaster. Her brothers are watching me! What on earth is she doing? Why is she being so affectionate?’ These thoughts swirled in Hermes Granger’s mind.
Harry, noticing his friend’s tension, smirked and gave Ron a pat on her leg.
“Ron, I’m starting to feel like a house-elf,” he joked. “What’s next? A foot massage?”
Hermes shot him a glare at the comparison. Ron laughed, opening one eye to look at him.
“I’m considering it, Potter.”
Hermes tried to relax, but Harry’s comment tightened the knot in his stomach. The situation was confusing, and he didn’t know what to make of it. Why did he feel so… unsettled? He barely managed to keep up with the rhythm of his strokes on her hair. Every time his hand touched her soft hair, he felt an urge to pull back, as though any more contact would expose just how vulnerable he really was.
"Mmhmm," Ron murmured softly, though Hermes heard it. He glanced at Harry, panicking, but Harry merely chuckled at his discomfort.
‘Merlin, I’m going to explode. What on earth are you doing, Verónica? Why are you tormenting me like this?’
Meanwhile, the rest of the Weasley siblings watched the entire scene from the other side of the common room. Fred and George exchanged a glance before Fred leaned toward Ginny.
“Has our dear Ronnie become the queen of the common room?” murmured Fred with a sly grin.
“Looks like she’s making the most of every second,” replied George, stifling a laugh.
Ginny, watching her sister reclining so casually, raised an eyebrow with a mix of astonishment and amusement.
“She must be in heaven,” Ginny whispered. “It’s not something we see every day.”
Lee Jordan, the twins’ best friend, snickered at the display of affection.
Noticing her brothers staring at her, Ron raised her head with a defiant look, though a smile played on her lips.
“Got a problem over there?” she asked loftily.
Fred and George walked over, performing an exaggerated bow.
“Oh, none at all, dear sister,” Fred replied, laughing. “We’re just enjoying the show. It’s not every day we see our little Ronnie taking charge of the situation.”
George added with a grin, “After all, it’s a Weasley stealing the spotlight without a single spell cast.”
“Oooh, it looks like someone’s blushing,” Ginny teased, pointing at Hermes and catching the twins’ attention.
“If you’ll excuse us, we need a quick Weasley meeting… without Ronnie,” said Fred as the three redheads gathered to whisper conspiratorially.
Hermes let out a nervous laugh, still unable to relax, while Harry, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the scene immensely.
“Any trouble over here, Hermes?” whispered Harry, nudging him in the shoulder, fully aware of how uncomfortable his friend was.
“Trouble? Not at all,” muttered Hermes, looking down at Ron, who seemed completely relaxed. Despite his nerves, he couldn’t help but feel a sort of satisfaction at seeing her so comfortable, so… close.
Harry smiled, casually resting a hand on Ron’s leg.
“I suppose we could get used to this. After all, we’re your personal house-elves, right, Ron?”
Ron laughed.
“I’d say you’re on the right track,” she replied, looking between Hermes and Harry with a smile that made it clear she was savouring every moment.
Hermes realized that, despite his nerves, something about Ron’s proximity felt… special.
Ron was watching Hermes’s reactions closely, studying his breathing and movements. She was surprised that he hadn’t yet noticed her gaze fixed on him. She glanced at Harry, who gave her a mocking grin. She saw her brothers still whispering amongst themselves. When she felt Hermes’s leg shifting beneath her head — ‘probably a tic,’ she thought — she placed a firm hand on his knee to still him.
Hermes tried to ignore the gentle weight of Ron and continued his awkward strokes in her hair. Every time his fingers touched her soft red curls, he felt a spark of nervousness shoot up his arm, but he tried to keep his expression neutral.
“You know, Hermes?” murmured Ron, without opening her eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be so good at this.”
Hermes swallowed, painfully aware that everyone in the room was watching them, especially Harry, who seemed to be relishing his friend’s discomfort.
“Well… it’s not as if I do this often,” he stammered.
Ron opened one eye, giving him a shrewd look that nearly made him crumble.
“Mmm… I see. Then we’d better not waste the opportunity,” she said, settling in even more and pressing her hand on his knee, as if testing how far she could push him.
Hermes felt a strange warmth in his chest at seeing her so close, so relaxed. It was a moment shared just between them, oblivious to the bustle of the common room. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, she whispered:
“Look at me, Hermes,” Ron said softly, just loud enough for him to hear.
“W-what?” he stammered.
Hermes looked down, finding himself faced with a sight he’d never expected: Ron in his lap, her red hair spread out, her blue eyes looking directly at him, her freckles clear, and her smile… oh, her smile was directed solely at him. Hermes let out a shaky breath, and at that moment, he accepted something he’d been denying for a long time.
‘Oh, I’m in love with Verónica Weasley.’
The realisation hit him like a bucket of ice water. The laughter from the Weasley siblings faded into the background, and even Harry’s laughter seemed distant. ‘It’s rare to hear Harry laugh like that, what’s so funny?’ but Hermes barely cared. He was captivated by her gaze, feeling as if Ron’s expression was saying, “I’ve got you.”
Just then, he became aware of his surroundings. The Weasley brothers had stopped laughing and were watching him with knowing looks. Harry was grinning in the same way, while Ron feigned innocence.
Hermes Granger had just fallen into the clutches of the first Weasley girl. A. BLOODY. WEASLEY. A pure-blood family, blood traitors for protecting people like him (a Muggle-born), a family brimming with love, mischief, and pranks, a large family of redheads. ‘My children would look good with red hair and be tall,’ an intrusive thought interrupted his other thoughts. ‘WHAT?’ he thought again.
'Did I just… think about having kids with Ron?' The thought struck Hermes, and suddenly, his mind was flooded with an entire future. In every version of it, Ron was there – adorable scenes, and… well, some not-so-adorable ones. Just the thought of it was enough to make his cheeks flush as he fought to control the chaos in his head.
He looked away, struggling to steady his breathing, but Ron, with that triumphant smile, seemed to be enjoying his discomfort. She tilted her head slightly, leaning towards him as if she had a secret to share.
“You know,” she murmured softly, her eyes fixed on his, “I don’t always like people touching my hair. But with you… well, you do a good job.”
Hermes swallowed, unable to find words. All he managed was a nod, as if that was the only way to process what he’d just heard. Ron’s hand was still lightly resting on his knee, but to him, it felt like his skin was on fire. Harry, noticing his friend’s discomfort, held back a grin, clearly enjoying the scene.
“How about we give him a bit of breathing room?” Harry suggested, amused, watching Hermes’s face grow even redder.
“Oh, I’m perfectly fine right here,” Ron replied without a care for the looks they were attracting. “Actually, what about you lot? Maybe you should try relaxing a bit, too.”
Hermes could barely breathe. Ron’s words, so casual and unfazed, left him utterly disarmed. He tried to appear calm, though a storm was raging inside him, logic clashing with the unexpected emotion overtaking him. His voice barely obeyed him.
“R-relaxing? Yes… yes, I can do that,” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper, realising his hand was still absentmindedly stroking Ron’s hair.
Ron’s smile widened. She shifted slightly, leaning her head against his chest as if she’d found a comfortable spot she didn’t intend to leave. Hermes grasped at any excuse to distract himself, but her scent, her warmth, and the sound of her laughter pushed every rational thought out of his mind.
“Are you… comfortable?” he asked at last, a desperate attempt to cling to some semblance of composure.
“Very much so, thank you, Hermes.” She gave him a little wink before adding in a whisper, “More comfortable than I’ve been in a long time.”
That last confession left him frozen. What did she mean by that? Was she hinting at something, or was she just playing along? But as Ron closed her eyes again, resting her head against him, Hermes decided, for once, to let go of the logic that usually ruled him and simply enjoy the moment.