xkingweasley-blog1

[xkingweasley-blog1]

ofsoundfury:

Pansy may have been a prefect, but it was times like this she wasn’t particularly a very good one. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy patrolling the halls, a giddy smile in sending people off from places she could be that they couldn’t, but today wasn’t that kind of day. She had been spoon fed so much disappointment that they idea of actually doing anything sounded absolutely quite dreadful. So when she was supposed to patrol the halls for people that should be tucked away in bed, she felt she’d have the night free of any questions. And with that in mind, she decided to lay back and enjoy the wave of quiet, cigarette hanging from her lips. All she needed to do was light it and let the smoke surround her and take her far away from Hogwarts and all the bloody disappointment.

But just as the day had been filled with, there was a whole new brand of surprise in store for her. Instead of the quiet and the smoke she so desired, a voice flailed from beyond the hall. Her first instinct was to play dead, maybe she could give one of the prefects a good startle before heading off to yet another hall to hide away in. And while that seemed to be such a lovely scheme, the familiar voice suggested otherwise.

“Go away, Weasley!” her voice yelled, her limbs laying limp in the formation of playing dead on the cold ground. Briefly, she considered that the idea was even worse considering the war that had happened so recently. So quickly, she raised her knees up, looking all the more lively. “I’m bloody perfect. What I need to know is what’s wrong with you?” one brow rose above the other. Pansy of course jumped immediately to defensive, asking questions that should be asked towards her instead. It was a fun characteristic of a girl who ultimately didn’t give a damn, especially with the company she was surrounded by. “You don’t do these types of things, ever. So why you have to go about raining on the parades tonight, huh?”

Ron didn’t know what he expected when he saw the pile of person on the floor, but what he got most certainly wasn’t it. His mouth immediately turned somehow further down on his face and he took a step back, more than displeased at the sight of Pansy Parkinson. He found himself wishing desperately that she weren’t a prefect so he could’ve completely fucked the Slytherin’s points on her merit, but of course, it just wasn’t the case. “What do you mean ‘go away’? This isn’t your bloody hallway, Parkinson, I have just as much right to be here as you.” He said, eyes narrowing slightly with a certain distaste. 

He watched her sit up and took yet another step backwards, not particularly wanting her within range to even breathe the same air. “Yeah, I know, I’m a bloody prefect too and this is my job. It’s none of your business what I do with my time or why.” He said, much too stubborn to admit the cause of reason was that he was called out by the headmaster. That would give her some sort of satisfaction, he was sure, and he wanted her to have none of it. She was a slimy little bitch if he were honest, which he most usually was. She might not technically be a death eater, but she was just as bad as someone with the dark mark in his book, especially after that stunt she pulled during the battle. It might’ve been more than a handful of months, but it was still a fresh wound, and she couldn’t escape that poor decision she made.

“I can’t believe you’re asking what’s wrong with me, look at you! You’re lying on fuckin’ floor! You do have a bed, you know that, right, Parkinson?” He said incredulously, his wand still held out with the light glowing from it, his distance casting weird shadows on her face and making her look absolutely horrifying, as if she could get any more disturbing looking. The filthy pug-face was probably exactly where she deserved to be; on the floor with the rats and bugs. “I’d be careful if I were you, wouldn’t want to startle Mrs. Norris. Reckon she doesn’t like dogs much.”

prefect duties || ron & open

[xkingweasley-blog1]

alice-tolipxn:

It was not often that prefects stopped Alice. They did not need to ask why she was out so late, the answer was always that she lost track of time in the library, and they did not need to ask where she was going, because it was always straight to bed, feet dragging behind her and an armful of books. Or at least, pre war, it had always been that way.

Recently there had been one or two occasions where that was not the case, and Alice was ever so relieved that no-one had cottoned on. Really as long as she had a book or two with her she could breeze right by the supervisors without issue, especially if it was someone of her own house. 

So what was it keeping Alice out of bed if not her precious academia? Well, the same shit that kept everyone up these days. Post war problems. She had been in the library, fully intending to return to the dorm within scheduled hours, but then her feet had gone numb. Then her calves, then her things, and then Alice was stuck. 

Luckily, she was secluded in an out of sight corner and so hadn’t drawn any attention remaining slumped in her chair, suddenly too spooked to read. Eventually the numbness began to recede, by which post it was after curfew. So Alice rose from her chair with some difficulty, feet now just about ready to comply to her commands but upper legs still shaky and resistant. Still she soldiered on, determined to make it back without getting caught.

That was why she didn’t cast a lumos, Alice felt absolutely no desire to draw attention to the fact that she was dragging herself along and leaning heavily against the castle wall for support, breathing slow and pained. Unfortunately as well as Alice had memorized the castle, she could not account for every new lose stone and cobble, one of which sent her tumbling to the ground since the majority of her leg muscles were still too locked up to help.

Thankfully her arms were still working, and so she managed to just about avoid having her head collide with the concrete. Alice was just beginning to gather herself up when she heard Ron, and she scrambled to be up-right again before he became too concerned. Legs were having none of that apparently, buckling under her own weight and sending Alice crashing back to the ground with a huff. “Sorry.” She squinted against the harsh light of the spell. “Sorry Ron, I’m just heading back from the library and I tripped..”

As the mess on the floor began moving and speaking he recognized it as Alice Toplin as he just nodded. “Yeah, alright.” He said, not moving to offer a hand to help her up, still clearly just a bit shaken on her sudden appearance. He almost entirely forgot what he was supposed to be doing when he turned it wand slightly out of her direction so it wasn’t glaring in her eyes and he remembered how dark it was and by association, how late it was as well. He blinked. “Oh, wait, yeah, what are you doing out so late? They let you stay in the library past curfew?” He sounded hesitant, almost as if he thought she was lying but also wasn’t quite sure if there was something happening he didn’t know about. Damn, Hermione really does do her duties a lot better, Ron knew he was both too gullible and too careless for this job. Even if she was lying, he’d probably let her slide.

A part of that, he supposed, was his own personal bias. She was a Gryffindor after all. Of course, he might let a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw slip by as well if they had a good enough alibi, but he knew damn well he’d be condemning a Slytherin to hell right about now if it were them caught out of bed at this time. Yeah, okay, so maybe he really shouldn’t be a prefect. Maybe he should give her a slap on the wrist or something, a small punishment so that McGonagall would believe in him as a prefect again so he’d hopefully never have to do another check again in his entire life. She could potentially be his way out of this. He thought over his options. On one hand, he could turn her in and lose the house a few points which would mean McGonagall would be off his arse but his housemates would also probably shun him or something. On the other hand, he could not do shit and just let her scurry off into the night and have to do this for a few more nights and not get potentially stoned to death. Decisions, decisions.

He sighed looking at her, he’d seen her around for over seven years now, that had to count for something. Gryffindor loyalty, yeah? “Alright, there’s two ways we could handle this. One is I walk you back to the common room and pretend to give you some half-arsed punishment that I take off the top of my head and we both get off scot-free, or I turn around and count to ten and you run off to do whatever it is you’re doing and pretend I never saw you, but could still get potentially caught by another prefect who probably won’t be so nice about it.”

prefect duties || ron & open

[xkingweasley-blog1]

chcsenone:

xhermionegranger:

The portrait swing open, and she turned away from Harry, only to see Ron entering the common room. Hermione stood up form the chair at once. The girls had very well told the truth, and while she had known there had to be some truth behind it all, this was nothing like what she had expected; there was blood everywhere, running down his face.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley!” Her jaw was tightly clenched, her hands curled up into fists with her arms kept straight down along her body; her whole body perfectly displayed the rage boiling within her. She could hardly believe Ron had gotten himself into a fist fight like this - it was so utterly unnecessary - and show up in the common room of all places in the condition he was in! 

Of course she was worried, with blood everywhere and the tooth in his hand, but it only worked as fuel to the fire. “You should have gone to the hospital wing right away! You know very well I don’t do healing spells - and especially not when we have Madam Pomfrey in the same bloody castle!” During their travels, their healing largely went by potions; healing spells were difficult and something she had yet to teach herself how to do. She knew some spells and the theory behind them, but she would not risk it with the effect they could have if they failed. 

Her hands were shaking slightly as she stepped forward, reaching to his face. She did not touch him, scared she would only hurt him further. A wrinkle of worry appeared between her eyebrows as her eyes searched him.

@chcsenone​

He almost winced at the sheer volume of the words that left Hermione’s mouth. Harry’s eyes didn’t leave Ron as he made their way toward them. Ron looked worse than Harry would have expected. He wasn’t sure what he expected really, a few minor bruises, another vomiting of slugs, a magically blackened eye perhaps. It seemed seemed this fight was done without wands though. That, or they really lacked creativity. Knowing Ron and Blaise, that wasn’t entirely off the table. 

Harry stared down at Ron’s hand as he held it out to Hermione, his lips pulled down in the corners as he stared at the contents there. Either Ron lost or this was a hell of a fight. He had to bite his tongue. Anything he said now would just be over powered by the yelling Hermione had already started doing. He was just glad it wasn’t him. 

It seemed she was done for the moment being though, her voice silenced as she angrily looked over Ron’s face. Harry saw this as an opportunity to include himself. “Luna knows a few. I don’t know about teeth but she fixed my nose pretty well.” He knew this was bound to earn him a glare from Hermione but he knew he wasn’t the focus of her anger, not now. It would be short lived.

(@xkingweasley​)

Ron’s face screwed up a bit at the tone Hermione gave him, something of which he had expected but didn’t like all the same. He knew she had some right to be mad at him, or, well, at least be mad at the look of him. His reason for the fight was totally justified! Or, at least the part of the reason he plans on telling her is justified. He wasn’t going to tell her about the part were he told Zabini he was going to shag his mum. That would just be distasteful. He’d tell Harry about it later, though, because it was bloody hilarious. “Merlin, ‘Mione, wanna damage my ear drums too while you’re at it? Madam Pomfrey’s a cow and if I go to her she’s gunna keep tutting at me like a fuckin’ tart. I wouldn’t be surprised if she just lies and tells me she can’t do it so I have to have a missing tooth for the rest of my life, honestly.” He said, still a little heated from the fight.

He sighed then, followed shortly by a groan. “Blimey, Harry, since when do we trust Luna of all people to do cosmetic healing spells? Do I really have to go to Madam Pomfrey or are you just punishing me, ‘Mione, because I’ll have you know I was fighting him for your honor, he was saying some pretty nasty things about you and I wouldn’t stand for it.” He said, his head up a bit to show his pride in that fact because, hey, it wasn’t a lie at all. In fact, it was a pretty big chunk of the truth.

He didn’t take his eyes off Hermione, however, somewhat worried that she’d hit him or burst into flames or something like that. Then he remembered a piece of conversation that came up a few times. “Wait, don’t your parents work with muggle teeth? D’you reckon they’d be able to put it back for me?”

( @xhermionegranger )

fight club | golden trio

[xkingweasley-blog1]

xhermionegranger:

The Black mansion always carried a certain gloominess about it. Hermione suspected it derived from it being large and mostly unoccupied, in addition to their previous experiences with the house. She still remembered the shadow of Albus Dumbledore in the hallway to protect them from Snape; his voice booming and making the hairs raise on her arm, sending chills up her spine. It was no secret the house had stowed away several artifacts and dark magic - most notably a Horcrux - and you never quite knew what you could stumble upon. Therefore, Hermione usually stayed away from messing around in drawers and cupboards as much as she could. Ron, evidently, did not follow the same policy. 

“Of course you did.” She paused, looking at the object in his hand and leaned even closer. Whether it was to see it better or simply have an excuse to shuffle a bit closer was impossible to say - or so she hoped. It only looked like a glass figure, though with her wand in the hall and the house more or less haunted by black magic, she could not know for sure. 

Her eyes turned back to his, and she, too, was a little surprised at how close they were now. The corners of her mouth tugged further upwards at his comment. For a long time, she said nothing, only studied his face, counting the freckles across his nose; the hand on his shoulder reached out to caress his cheek. Then she leaned forward, close enough to feel his warm breath against her skin, and pressed her lips to his. It was short, only a peck, before she leaned back again, but it was enough to widen her smile even further. 

She took the glass figure from his hand and carefully put it back on the desk beside Regulus’ bed. “I don’t know exactly what it is, but it looks rather sharp,” she commented at last. “You didn’t cut yourself, did you?” Her voice was soft, eyes turned to his hand as she took it in both of hears, thumb moving carefully across the palm. 

Ron tried to keep himself from smiling stupidly, he really did, but when Hermione did it herself, his face broke out into a rather silly grin. She had that power over him, making him do stupid things, and not always in necessarily good ways. She always had, really, and he was sure she knew that at this point. He was an idiot when it came to most things, but one that tended to rise about the most was Hermione Granger. For and of that girl, he was absolutely daft.

He put a hand on her cheek for a moment, stopping her to press another kiss to her lips, for good measure, maybe, before pulling back and dropping his hand, attention turning back to the glass ball. He too looked at his palms at her question, almost as if he wouldn’t have noticed if he cut himself on it. “No, I think I made it out injury free this time.” He said, turning his hands over in hers just to make sure there were no cuts as that comment had made him a bit paranoid. “You don’t think it’s busted up with dark magic, do you?” He said then after a second, added. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m sure even the door knobs in this place are cursed, every time you touch one I bet you lose like.. five minutes of life or something. Harry’s totally screwed in that case. Well, it was nice knowing him.” He said, meaning for it to come across as a joke but instead it came out a bit breathless and soft, like he’d run a marathon and then started talking to a toddler.

Maybe it was his concern about the possibly cursed object, but he was rather certain it was still pertaining to their proximity. He remembered when he was younger, when he realized how he really felt about Hermione. He had entirely brushed it off at first, he just blamed it on the fact that she was the only girl he wasn’t related to that paid him any mind, that was the easy answer, but then Lavender came around and he realized that it wasn’t female attention as much as it really was just Hermione. As bad as it made him feel, he really had never had any particular interest in Lavender except for the fact that she had liked him. That was never the case with Hermione because, well, he’d never even so much as thought that she’d have feelings for him before seventh year. Well, there was that comment about snogging him in sixth year, but that was different. He just thought it was an example or something. There was just always something so special about her, she was brilliant, and while yeah had a tendency to be a bit of a pushy know it all sometimes, it was always for the best.

His gaze met hers again for a long moment, blue eyes searching her face for a moment before he pulled his hands out of hers, placing both of them on her cheeks and bringing her in for another kiss.

alone | ron & hermione

[xkingweasley-blog1]

lauraevamadley:

@xkingweasley

Usually, Laura wouldn’t be pissed about anything. To say the truth, rarely someone ever saw her really angry. Not just angry, but disappointed, frustrated, mad. She hated those feelings and couldn’t wait for when they would be gone, but right now the only thing the Hufflepuff could feel was rage - at herself for performing so poorly, at her bad luck for probably influencing the moral of the whole team and maybe even helping Leanne not get the snitch, at every single thing that happened while they were on the field. The only thing Laura wasn’t so mad about, maybe, was the fact that people from her team managed to escape quaffles - at least that her bad luck had no influence on. Who knows what could’ve been different if she had gotten the damn quaffle? Once, twice, three times? She meant it, though… even once! Once would’ve have been good enough. But nooooo, she had to miss all of them. Fuck. Three - twenty - times fuck. And not the good type (though she had never experienced that one).

For some reason, a few hours later she caught herself walking somewhere she didn’t think she would go. Actually, the whole day she did things Laura mostly didn’t, at least after the game. She ignored some of her friends, almost yelled with one and had to control herself not to get up on her broom and ask someone to throw quaffles on her directions for hours until she had gotten at least twenty with no mistake. But she couldn’t, unfortunately. Anyway, after most of the rage was gone, she started walking towards the infirmary - that’s right, the place in Hogwarts where sick or hurt people usually went to be treated. The same place Ron Weasley, the keeper of the other team, was being taken care of. And that was where Laura was heading.

It took her only a few minutes once she got inside to be able to go see Ron; some people were there, but she was close with enough of them to get clearance, and it seemed right now he wasn’t in pain or anything - just being observed because of the place the bludger hit him. Well, whatever… she would talk to him, maybe share the thoughts related to both of them having sucked on that match, and be done with it. “Hey… You’re Ron, right? I mean, of course you are. Erm… Ginny talked about you.” And she almost smiled after realizing her tone was ok enough; she took a deep breath and waited, though. It wasn’t like she couldn’t get expelled at any moment - especially by him.

Ron was fucking pissed, but that was nothing new. He more often than not found himself angry at everything, a simple bumping into him or the sound of a spoon clanking too loudly against a glass. Anything. But today was different, because today it wasn’t just anything, no, today he had damn good reason. His fucking leg was shattered once again, this time thanks to a member of the opposing team, which he supposed was better than his own teammate, but it still set his blood on fire. Not even the ending victory got his spirits up. Sure, he’d definitely performed worse in matches before, but he wasn’t necessarily great this time either and it was eating at his mind because he hated the fact that it seemed as if every one of their victories was based entirely on Harry. Yeah, most Quidditch matches came down to that anyways, but it wouldn’t hurt for the Gryffindor team to score some bloody points in the mean time.

His own lack of focus and tact is what landed him in the infirmary and he knew it, though he’d never admit it. He had a broken leg because he was too focused on trying to get his head in the game to actually get his head in the game, and it seemed that was becoming the problem more and more often recently and he knew it was only a matter of time before Harry really got on his arse about it. Getting yelled at was bad enough, getting yelled at by your best mate was even worse. Especially when you sodding deserved it. It was just the game before that he was chewed out last time, also with a broken leg, but this time it would just be embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as having Madam Pomfrey give him that displeased look every time she seems him, which seems to be a lot more than either of them would like. He wouldn’t be surprised if the old bitch did something wrong on purpose one of these days, just to punish him.

He sat back on the bed, arms crossed and face drawn in a pouty and vaguely pissed off look, obviously less than pleased to be here, while the matron inspected his leg, tutting all the while. “Well, Ronald, looks like you’ve got another clean break, but on the left leg this time. Looks like you’re evening it out, hm?” Her voice had that sweet old lady tone to it, but he could tell it was condescending so he just muttered in response. She waved a hand and before she got the chance to fix him he heard another patient moan in pain some distance away and he had to stop himself from groaning. “One moment, dear.” She said then, turning and disappearing behind the separator.

It was only then that he looked up and noticed the blonde standing there somewhat timidly and he raised in impatient eyebrow. When she spoke he then realized who she was. She was from the Hufflepuff team. It was a less-than-appealing realization and he sighed as she spoke, nodding his head. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. What’s it to you?” He said, much more harshly than necessary. He was having a rather rough day, after all.

Nothing was well || Laura and Ron

[xkingweasley-blog1]

prefect duties || ron & open

Ron didn’t do his prefect duties all that often, in fact, he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d actually even attempted to do them at all. More often than not he just abused his prefect power and used it as an excuse to be out of bed after hours, sometimes get snacks, or take extra long baths in the prefect bathroom, but that was usually the extent of his ‘responsibilities.’ However, sometimes duty calls. And by ‘duty’ its meant that McGonagall finally caught on to his antics and wasted no time getting on his arse about it. That meant that he actually had to do his bloody job or else he was going to get demoted back to the invisibility cloak, and he and Harry both knew how well that went last time. 

So now Ron huffed, walking down the hallways just after dark and holding the light at the end of his wand out, earning noises of disapproval from the portraits to which his mouth pulled down at the corners. “Oh, sod off. It’s not like you’re gunna do my bloody job.” He muttered under his breath, continuing his trek around the giant castle, posture poor and interest lacking. Nothing all that exciting really happened in the halls at night anymore, not since he, Harry, and Hermione had stopped doing all the things that they used to do, and if by any chance something exciting does happen, it’s more often than not Seamus, and Ron certainly doesn’t want to turn him in because that bloody sounds like a good way to not get invited to the next party. Hermione was the only one who could get away with giving punishments to her own housemates, and even she barely slid by.

As if by, well, magic, he suddenly heard a thud from up ahead and he paused, trying to see through the darkness but scowling when he couldn’t make anything out. “Oi! Who’s there?” He said perhaps just a bit louder than he should have, gaining more disgruntled noises from the portraits, all of which he ignored. He wasn’t close enough to the mysterious situation to know who or what was up ahead, and that made him a bit uneasy. Not even fighting Voldemort and his followers could completely deplete Ron’s consternation. He took a few hesitant steps forward, craning his neck as he came face to face with a mess of robes and limbs sprawled out on the floor in front of him and he almost immediately forgot the job he was supposed to be doing, his eyebrows drawing together and his voice coming out curious and incredulous, “Blimey, are you alright?”

[xkingweasley-blog1]

chcsenone:

Harry sat with his knees to his chest, his arm curled over the top of it and his chin on top of that. His free arm held up his wand, the light perhaps too bright for the dormitory at midnight but his roommates were quite heavy sleepers or, none of them complained at least. His eyes ran up and down the map that sat by his foot. He did this when he couldn’t sleep. Some nights it wasn’t even that he couldn’t, rather than he didn’t want to. Harry had taken to staying awake until he felt absolute exhausted. There wasn’t a particular reason for it, he didn’t suffer from nightmares on most days it was just that he didn’t want to waste any time. While it felt like he had far too much of it he didn’t want to sleep his remaining teen years away. Harry was beyond reluctant to start his adult life, to get a job and to never return to the place he called home for what felt like his entire life.  The sound of his name almost him jump, he eyes flashing to the place it had come from. Automatically, Harry lifted his want so that Ron was directly in teh light of it. He hadn’t noticed that Ron woke up. Ron looked horrible. He was covered in sweat and his hair clung to his pale forehead. The bags under his eyes were just as prominent as always. He looked as if he never had a goodnight sleep but Harry knew this wasn’t true, Ron slept more than almost anyone Harry had ever known.  “I dunno.” Harry shrugged to his question. His voice carried the slight confusion and curiosity that was rising in him. Ron had never expressed a fear of Voldemort to him before, Harry was sure he would remember if he did.  “I didn’t know you dreamt of him, I mean I thought it was just me.”

Ron’s eyes went to Harry immediately as he spoke, a hint of confusion hitting his features, eyebrows furrowed and mouth turned down. Well, that just didn’t make any bloody sense. Why in all of Merlin’s sweet hell would Harry be dreaming of him? It isn’t reasonable, not really. Well, he did suppose he was a big part of the whole dark army thing, and he was there when Cedric died, if Ron recalled correctly. Still didn’t sound very reasonable if you asked him.

He shifted to sit up more comfortably, back still slouched with poor posture as he gave Harry his incredulous look. “Wait, who are you talking about?”

Nightmares || Ron & Harry

[xkingweasley-blog1]

chcsenone:

xhermionegranger:

Hermione turned around to look as the girls disappeared up the stairs to the dormitories, furrowing her eyebrows as she did. Meaningless gossip and rumours and nothing more, certainly. Nevertheless… Ron did have quite the temper - both she and Harry had been subjected to it more times than she could count, and particularly throughout this past year as they travelled about… It seemed to have worsened after his brother’s death, however, and Hermione would knit her eyebrows together in worry at the thought of it; he seemed to have anger fleeting just beneath his skin, ready to errupt at any lousy insult thrown their way. She was not sure how many times she had averted such a situation, placing a firm hand on his arm and hissing for him to stop it. 

She supposed it would be possible that he had gotten into yet another verbal fight, throwing bad words and insults at one another for no reason at all. “It was only one dance,” she said and turned around again, talking more to herself than Harry. The confidence she had carried in her voice only a moment before had faltered somewhat. It was one dance that took place weeks ago - did that have nothing better to make a rumour out of?

Glaring towards the entrace, she almost expected Ron to emerge from it, a smile on his lips and a laugh to go with the absurdity of the accusation. Instead, she turned back to Harry and found her eyes narrowing. There was a small change in his expression that had accompanied his agreement - changes most other people would not notice at all, but Hermoine had spent seven years trying to notice when something was a little off. 

“Do you know anything about this?”

Harry felt his lips press together at her words. It was just a dance, Harry agreed that maybe it wasn’t a big deal but to Ron a dance meant a lot. It wasn’t Hermione’s fault, to her it was innocent, friendly but Ron was an entirely other story. He hopped Hermione was being more reasonable underneath, that this was all just her trying to convince herself for the better. Ron was still furious about the dance and Zabini wasn’t one to apologize. If anything, Harry suspected Zabini would rub it in Ron’s face given the chance.  Her eyes went toward the entrance and Harry’s followed, there was nothing there and he didn’t expect there to be for a while. Well, not what she was waiting for anyway. He had to stop from keeping his foot from tapping against the floor with inpatients. He wanted to know just as badly as she did what had gone on. He was sure whatever it was, there was some truth to what the girls had said. Harry didn’t know himself how bad it was. It could have been anything from a small spat to a full blown duel. Ron was very unpredictable these days, very touchy. It was almost like he were set on a timer, that he would explode any day now.  “Well, I think I could gue-” Harry cut himself off when he heard the portrait door swing open. “Oh.  wow.” Harry mused, his voice carrying more shock than anything else. Ron stood in the door way, blood pooling down his front and his fist held about waist high. He wondered what was in it but knew he wouldn’t get the chance to ask. This was Hermione’s territory now. 

( @xkingweasley )

Ron’s face and body were fucked. Walking down the hallway with a limp and a dislodged tooth in hand definitely drew attention, that he noticed very quickly as first years pulled out of his way and some older years tried to bombard him with questions, likely because they heard the story already. Gossip sure does travel bloody fast. ‘You fought Zabini? Who won? Didn’t Greengrass break it up?’ He brushed it all off with a grunt, obviously not in the mood at the current time. He was excited to talk about it, yeah, but he wanted his tooth back in his mouth first. Well, that, and Harry had the right to be the first to hear all the details, that was his best mate after all.

The portrait of the fat lady gave him a wary look as she let him through and he stepped into the common room, eye swelling and red down his chin. His eyes immediately found Harry and Hermione and he would’ve groaned if he wasn’t too busy trying to swallow down enough blood to speak as he stepped forward. Oh, Hermione’d have his arse for this one and he knew it. Hell, he’d be surprised if she tried to bloody ground him with how angry she was bound to be. Not only fist fighting on school property but with Zabini of all people. He was prepared for the absolute hurricane of frizzy-haired rage that was bound to be brewing.

He walked into his friends vicinity and nodded at Harry to acknowledge him before immediately sticking his hand out and opening his fingers, revealing the severed tooth to Hermione. “You can put this back, yeah? ‘Cause if not I’m gunna have to go to Pomfrey and I really don’t want to bloody do that.”

@xhermionegranger

fight club | golden trio

[xkingweasley-blog1]

xhermionegranger:

Ron had a way of formulating himself roughly, in a rather unelegant fashion; it could be inappropriate in certain situations, of course, like talking to her parents for the first time, but most times it was completely harmless. Admittedly, it was something she did not mind very much - as long as it did not get out of hand - because it was so awfully Ron. This was no exception, and despite the image he painted, it all brought a smile to her lips. “Would you really? I gathered you thought it got bad enough when Harry gave him Regulus’ locker.” While she thought it was just appropriate that he would get it, Kreacher had made quite the point out of it. It was perfectly understandable, of course, and she herself could not do much else than feel sorry for his loss of someone he clearly loved so dearly.

Hermione sat down on the bed as well, arm reaching out to touch his hair. It was hardly possible to get a moment alone in the castle - or at the very least a form of quiet they could safely assume would last without any interpretations - and the same could be said of the Burrow. It had been too long since last time, and she would be lying if she said she did not look forward to having the house more or less alone with him. She was certain Harry and Ginny were happy to have a moment alone as well, just the two of them, even with how things were between them at the moment.

“What do you have there?” She asked with curiosity coating her voice, eyes turning briefly to the object in his hands. He had seemed to be fiddling with it when she entered. She ran her hand through his hair, then dropped it lazily to his shoulder.

“’Mione, have you been ‘round this bloody flat? It could always be worse, the furniture that comes with the damned place is full of whack jobs, it is.” Ron said positively. It seemed that everything that was a required piece of the house hated them, and it was getting really tiring really fast. He had no idea how Harry functioned around the bloody portrait all the time, Ron was sure he’d have cut clean through the thing at this point. Her big mouth, screaming and yelling all the time, and mostly at his girlfriend! The nerve, honestly. 

Ron was immediately comfortable the second Hermione’s hand touched his hair, shuffling a bit closer to lean against her. He held up the small glass item, handing it to Hermione. “I got absolutely no idea what it is, but I found it in that drawer over there so I started tossing it around a bit.” He said, not even doing the courtesy of sounding embarrassed about it. Usually when people found strange objects they weren’t supposed to have and started touching them, they felt bad about it, but no, not Ron. “Do you know what it is?” He asked her then, turning his head to look at her, only then realizing how close their faces were and he suddenly felt a bit nervous. Sure, they’d snogged before, more than a few times, but they never really did much more than that, and his intentions alone made him a bit jumpy. It wasn’t that Hermione was a prude, but she was a respectable girl! You can’t very well just go around groping her or anything like that, but hell, he was getting antsy.

He looked at her profile for a long moment, just studying her face. She always had been beautiful, he reckoned he knew that the whole time, but you know how young boys are, Ron being Ron especially. He was probably just nervous, intimidated. Or, well, that’s what he told himself, anyways, still feeling a bit sick when thinking about how he used to treat her. “You know, ‘Mione, I always did like your hair down.” He commented, a hand going to brush a strand off her face.

alone | ron & hermione

[xkingweasley-blog1]

ruslan-fletcher:

chcsenone:

Harry’s eyes landed on the box and his smile stretched. “Well, tell her I said thank you.” It was kind of funny, that Russ told him mum about the party. Most of them didn’t, especially not Ron and Ginny. Merlin, if Molly found out…

“We could actually use more food. I sent Kreacher out on tasks so he wouldn’t have a heart attack so we’re kinda short.” The idea of Kreacher tending a party consisting mostly of drink, barely legal, wizards was almost terrifying. Harry didn’t think his heart would be able to handle seeing so many unruly people in the Black manor. 

“You can just put them anywhere. I’m sure Ron will find them son enough.”

“Will do, mate. She’ll be glad to know that people ate them.” And that was true–his Mum would be thrilled that the kids at the party ate her cookies and (hopefully) enjoyed them. He’d tell her they were a hit, either way, but they were sure to be. His Mum was a fantastic baker.

“Oh, I’m glad I brought them, then. If I’d have known I’m sure Mum would have baked up something else, too.” Still, the most important thing at the party would definitely be the alcohol, and once people got drunk they’d eat just about anything, so it didn’t really matter what food there was. “A house elf having a heart attack would definitely put a damper on the festivities, yeah?”

Russ looked around and set the cookies on a nearby table, not really knowing what else to do with them. “He’ll be able to smell them from a mile away, I bet,” he joked, chuckling.

Ron was already pretty drunk. He had pre-gamed the party by taking shots by himself in the kitchen, and it had only spiraled since then. He walked around the house in a cloud of slight intoxication, stopping to say hi to the few guests around the house and to drink more drinks. He was wandering around mostly at this point, waiting for more people to show up so he had a technically valid reason to be blacked out.

He was walking past the kitchen when he heard his name and quickly popped his head in the door. “What about me?” He piped up, walking over to Harry. “Oh, hey Ruslan.” He said before his eyes immediately drew to the tin in Ruslan’s hands to which he simply took without a word, stuffing a cookie into his mouth as quickly as possible. “Hey, thanks!” He said mid-chew before standing there for a moment, looking between the two in a sudden silence. “Right, well, I’m gunna go find the firewhiskey.” He finally said, patting Ruslan on the back with one hand and carrying the tin out of the room with the other. “Ruslan, you brought that flask, yeah? You should drink that first, spare the party favors and all.” He shouted back on his way out into the hallway.

@chcsenone

HarryxFriend

[xkingweasley-blog1]

Never have I ever tried to shag Hermione Granger.

Ron sputtered a bit of a laugh. “Tried? Oh, have I.” He said, almost under his breath before downing two shots from the bottle. “Have you seen that girl? She’s the most beautiful witch in the world, I’m tellin’ yah.” He said, reaching out to hit someone next to him on the shoulder. “Hey! You! You’ve seen my girlfriend, haven’t you? Isn’t she brilliant?” He swooned, but quickly began frowning when they agreed. He shoved their shoulder a bit harder. “Yeah, well you better stay away from her!”

[xkingweasley-blog1]

Never have I ever been jealous of a friend.

Ron frowned, eyes narrowing at Anthony in disdain. This was definitely a personal attack, and he wasn’t a fan. He downed a shot bitterly. “Oi, get fucked, Goldstein!”

[xkingweasley-blog1]

Let’s play never have I ever with my muse!

Each time my muse has done something, they must take a drink of whatever alcoholic beverage you want them to have. These questions can be as invasive as you want, there are no boundaries. Let’s just hope your muse has a high alcohol tolerance!

Catch: This game is CHARMED. If your muse lies about their never have I ever answer, one of two things (of the asker’s choice) can happen. 

One; your muse will be cast with the tongue-tying curse (mimblewimble) for a good ten minutes. OR Two; a piece of clothing will magically disappear/be taken off your muse’s body.

[xkingweasley-blog1]

xhermionegranger:

They had all gathered in Grimmauld Place after Christmas - it was a place for silence to settle and the hectic aspects of the holiday to be blocked out completely. Kreacher had been alone for quite some time, and when Harry had suggested to check up on him, Hermione had agreed whole-heartedly. As usual, she was not welcomed with open arms by Mrs. Black, whose portrait would shout Mudblood! after her each time she passed her by, but Kreacher rarely did so anymore. He even accepted her Christmas gift, although somewhat reluctantly and with a sour expression on his face. 

Harry and Ginny were heading out this particular afternoon, leaving her and Ron alone, with Kreacher wandering about in the kitchen to prepare the dinner for when they got back. After saying goodbye to the two by the door, she went off to locate Ron. The house felt even larger and emptier with them gone, and she suspected it would be more quiet as well without the tension that still roamed between the siblings, had it not been for Mrs. Black’s portrait. Hermione could still hear her shouting as she entered the room. “Oh, I’m tired of all this screaming of hers! I should just avoid the halls altogether, shouldn’t I!”

(@xkingweasley)

Ron was spread out in Regulus’ room, more or less just staring at the ceiling and occasionally getting up to rifle through drawers that he had no business being in and playing with things he had no business playing with when he heard the voices out in the halls and the opening of a door. He paused a moment, mysterious object in hand as he listened to see if he could make out what anyone was saying when he remembered that Harry and Ginny had said something about going to buy Christmas presents the other day and Ron pulled a face. ‘Gross, Harry’s probably going to try to snog my bloody sister again while they’re alone.’ 

It took him about another moment or two longer to realize that that meant he and Hermione were alone too, and he felt his heart and stomach lurch a bit because ‘holy fucking shit this is the chance I’ve been fucking waiting for!’ He had been searching for an excuse, a chance, an opportunity, to finally try to shag Hermione. They’d been together for awhile, yeah? They’d almost died together, he’d just met her bloody parents, and, of course, he loved the bossy witch a whole fuckton. If you asked him, now was as good a time as any other, if not better! Sure, yeah, he was almost one hundred percent certain going into it thinking she was going to shoot him down, but he had a firm hope that he might at least get to third base before that happened, and anyways, he’d never know if he didn’t try, yeah?

Ron heard Mrs. Black start screaming in the hall and he knew that meant she was coming his way, so he tried to act like natural, you know, like a male without an agenda. He threw himself on the bed, the mysterious and possibly dangerous object still in hand while he tried to make himself look busy as she entered the room to which he looked up, snorting a laugh. “Or we could just scrape the bitch off the wall and shove her in Kreature’s corner.” He said, almost completely forgetting that he was trying to set a mood.

alone | ron & hermione

[xkingweasley-blog1]

chcsenone:

Christmas morning had been almost as morbid as Harry had expected it to be. It was quiet, the few exchanging of gifts. The soft silence hadn’t been filled till Fleur and Bill got back from Fleur’s parents. Fleur had a gift of gab, even Molly couldn’t deny that. It was different now as they all sat around the table. Harry pulled his chair up, his eyes meeting Ginny’s across the table as he gave her wide smile. Something about the holidays made him feel closer to her. Perhaps it was all the relationships in the room. Everyone kept hugging and holding hands with the exception of Ron and Hermione on account Ron was terrified of her parents. Harry still suspected even he was grateful for their presence though. 

His smile to Ginny was deflected when Molly came in, the dishes full of food magically floating in front of them. Harry really wondered what this all looked like to Hermione’s parents. The plates landed and Molly made herself comfortable at the table. “Oh, Lacy, thank you for pie!“ Hermione’s parents had brought a meat pie, something Molly all but teared up at. Molly continued to smile graciously at her, obviously still nervous as to how this was to all play out. Harry had to admit, he was a bit curious himself. Harry started for the food, taking a large spoon full of potatos and dumping them on his plate. He wasn’t the first to start of course and it seemed he glanced up just in time to catch Molly’s glare. She didn’t say anything but it was obvious was it meant. ‘Slow down.’ She was worried they, her sons particularly, would eat savagely. Her eyes landed on Ron.  (@xkingweasley​)

Ron didn’t waste anytime in digging into the food, large spoonfuls plopping onto his plate the second the trays were put down. He was on edge, extremely so. Blimey, Hermione’s parents were in the room with him, not all that far away, and he had been trying to make good conversation, which turned out to be unsurprisingly difficult. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t know what to say, it was more that he didn’t know what not to say. Especially so when Hermione came up, because yeah, he could rant about how brilliant she is for days, but usually a few other choice words would slip in there and he found it a bit hard to avoid, practically snapping his teeth down on his tongue every time he found himself almost spitting a swear or less than appropriate term.

He was real bloody grateful when he dad came back in the room and immediately swept them back up in questions about ridiculous muggle shit Ron honestly couldn’t care less about. He took it as a good chance to suck in a breath, and about a whole plate of food, while trying to calm down a bit. He didn’t even notice his mother’s eyes boring into the top of his skull and he dug in with such a fervor that it looked like he was trying to eat the plate whole, which would be a nightmare as that was the ‘good dishware’ as his mum liked to put it.

One person at the table that the family was actually glad to see scarfing down food was George. It had been quite awhile since anyone saw him acting even sort of like his old self. It was refreshing. Ron bet it had something to do with his brother spending an awful lot of time with Angelina Johnson, who he assumed was spending dinner with her own family today. He’d never tell George he was happy for him, but he was. Not right now exactly, but in general. Right now Ron had others things to think about, like the fact Hermione’s dad looked like he was about to wriggle out of his Arthur’s bug-eyed grasp as his wife explained what it was a pasta arm did and come back over to Ron. Merlin, help him.

( @xhermionegranger​ )

Christmas Dinner

[xkingweasley-blog1]

heartofgoldandfire:

xhermionegranger:

chcsenone:

Harry seemed to have set off a line of questioning Ron and he wanted to shoot him an apologetic smile but knew it would go unnoticed. Ron didn’t seem to bothered by it anyway, which was a relief. The apples also confused Harry but everyone else seemed to beat him to the point. He no longer felt the need to say something but that didn’t keep him from being curious. His eyes landed on Hermione for what felt like a long moment before. “Should we be getting them something then?” He wasn’t quite sure. It seemed like the right thing to do, get someone a gift in return. The holidays always seemed to bring on a different air of stress, one Harry wasn’t quite acquainted with.

(@xhermionegranger​)

“Oh, have none of you heard the tale? Harry, you must have!” Nobody had seemed to catch up on her joke, which was not all surprising, she supposed. “It’s a reference to the fairy tale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. There is a queen - very reminiscent of the typical muggle stereotype of a witch, you see - who gives the girl in the story a poisoned apple.” She paused a moment, eyes flickering back and forth between the people in the compartment. 

“But you don’t have to get my parents anything at all. They don’t expect you to.” She turned to Ron, a smile on her lips. “My mum talked about making some of her peanut cookies for the occasion, actually! They’re very good.”

(@heartofgoldandfire​)

Ginny was still confused. “Why would a witch want to give a girl a poisoned apple?” She much preferred the magical stories they had grown up with. The muggle ones sounded odd. “Your lot always portray us witches bad. Why don’t wizards have the same reputation in the muggle world?” “That’s good to know, I hadn’t even thought of getting them something,” Ginny said, frowning. Normally she was better at thinking of everyone in the picture than this. Peanut butter cookies sound amazing. Do you think she could make some sugar cookies as well? Those are my favorite,“ Ginny said. "I’ve always loved making the cut outs and decorating them.” @xkingweasley

“Muggle stereotype witch? That sounds bloody disturbing.” Ron said, lips turned down at the sides. He opened his mouth to say more on the topic, but was quickly distracted when Hermione said the word ‘cookies.’ He was rather excited at the prospect of desserts. He had never tasted Hermione’s mum’s cooking before, but judging by her daughter he’d say she makes some damn good things, which is a comment he probably would’ve said out loud if Ginny weren’t there, and Hermione would’ve probably slapped him. God, he loved her.

It was around then, having spiraled into a rather inappropriate thought process, that he noticed the train begin to slow and he blinked up from what was most likely him practically salivating while staring at his girlfriend, ears and brain trying to catch up with the conversation. “Blimey, no need to get greedy, Ginny.” He said, mostly just to jostle her than anything. He silently vouched for sugar cookies as well, though he’d never agree with her out loud.

( @chcsenone​ )

Express Pt.1: GinnyxRonxHermionexHarry

[xkingweasley-blog1]

heartofgoldandfire:

xhermionegranger:

chcsenone:

“Yea.” Harry’s eyebrows shot up at Hermione’s mention of her parents. He quite liked them. Of course, he hadn’t had much interaction with them, all short ‘hello’s and ‘how do you do’s. Still, he enjoyed the little company they supplied. They were always very kind to all of them. He imgained this time would be no different.

Harry understood what Ron meant the first time but his clarification only confused him. He eyed Ron warily as he finished off his wand.  “I really worry about you sometimes Ron.” 

(@xhermionegranger​)

“We got that,” she told Ron. “Harry is not the only one.” Admittedly, Hermione was a bit nervous about having her parents come to the Burrow, first and foremost because she was almost certain Ron would - although accidentally - offend them at some point. 

“Well, at least they know what to give Mr. Weasley for Christmas,” she told them. “They have no idea what to give to the rest of you. I think they expect they have to give you brooms or cauldrons or… apples.” A smile spread across her lips at her own joke, though she was not entirely sure if Ron and Ginny would catch it. Snow White was perhaps not the most famous of stories in the wizarding world, after all.

(@heartofgoldandfire​)

“In fact, none of us were even thinking you meant something else until you felt the need to clarify,” Ginny added onto the other two’s comments about Ron’s word choice. She couldn’t resist saying something, which perhaps also said something about her current level of maturity. 

Ginny wrinkled her nose in confusion at Hermione’s parents’ ideas of a gift. “Apples aren’t magical,” she said. “Why would we want apples? Oh, aren’t fruit baskets a muggle thing? Do they think we expect a fruit basket?” she asked, concerned. She really didn’t need a fruit basket. “Really, they don’t even have to get us anything. It will be nice just having more people around.”

( @xkingweasley​ )

Ron simply shrugged at their comments in regard to his word choice. Blimey, blame a man for trying to clarify. He then, however, was quickly distracted when Hermione spoke again. “Apples?” He said in a bit of a mumble, obviously confused and, for some reason, kind of offended before speaking up. “I don’t know about all that but mum would probably soil her pants at the idea of anything homemade. Clothes, decorations, food..” He took a moment to think about that last one. “Yeah, actually, ‘Mione can your parents make food? I reckon that’d be hit at the table.” He then commented, mostly talking about himself.

“Oh, yeah, and shut up Ginny.” He then added for seemingly no reason at all, but his voice lacked any real malice, instead it seemed like it was just something he been meaning to say but had forgotten about until just now. He looked back to Hermione. “But yeah, ‘Mione, food. I’d suggest it.”

( @chcsenone​ )

Express Pt.1: GinnyxRonxHermionexHarry