Just The Girl I'm Looking For (1/1)
Title: Just The Girl I'm Looking For (1/1)
Rating: R
Length: 2,127 words
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Viktor Krum, Fred Weasley,
Ships: Ron/Hermione, Viktor/Hermione,
Notes: A bit of a lulzy story.
Summary: Ron is wrapped up in Hermione's sex life, and his jealousy gets the best of him.
Ron wanted to be happy for Hermione, he wanted to listen to her babble excitedly and forget her words, and watch her blush. He wanted to see her suck in her breath, and fix her hair whenever he came around. But the worst part of it all was that the ‘he’ was not him, it was Viktor Krum. Which, of course, Ron couldn't even compare to. His plain ginger hair and ratty clothes were nothing compared to the tall, and handsome Viktor. His plain brown eyes, were nothing compared to his "dreamy" grey eyes.
Ron was complacent that morning at the breakfast table, as Hermione excitedly rushed over to join him and Harry, “Hi guys! Sorry I’m late…I was seeing Viktor.”
“That’s great, Hermione,” Harry nodded, genuinely happy for her.
But it was easier for Harry than it was for Ron; the worst part of it all was that Ron couldn’t even tell anyone about it. He simply couldn’t tell Harry that he had feelings for Hermione; he knew that it would muff everything up. Harry had a competition to worry about and he didn’t have time to deal with Ron’s emotions, simply because they were usually over reactive and high-tempered.
Hermione glanced over at Ron, with a look of expectancy on her face, “Er, wonderful.”
“Yes, isn’t it?” Hermione replied ecstatically. “Ever since the dance we’ve just gotten closer and closer.”
Ron and Hermione had gotten over their fight at the dance abruptly, because the next day afterwards word was going around that Hermione had actually slept with Viktor. Ron shuddered to think of that even happening, and then laughed at the fact that Hermione couldn't be that daft. She was saving herself, for something that she wouldn't tell Ron or Harry, but he was sure it was important.
“It can’t be true, can it?” Ron asked Harry frantically as they paced the hallways looking for her. “I mean, she couldn’t have!”
“Ron,” Harry said flatly. “What difference does it make? If she did, she did.”
“Yeah, but she ought to tell us!” Ron said adamantly. “We’re her best friends!”
“Yeah, but we’re guys,” Harry replied rationally. “And who wants to tell two guys, “Oh some famous quidditch player popped my cherry”?
Especially not Hermione.”
“She’s gonna be pissed, though,” Ron said darkly.
The rumor was concocted by Lavender Brown, claiming that she had ‘heard noises’ later on that night emitting from Hermione’s bed. Hermione insisted that ‘no one was even there’ and that Lavender was just trying to cause a stir.
“Wait, so it is true?” Ron stammered.
“Yes,” Hermione replied, trying to focus on her notes. “What’s the matter with that?”
“Well, it’s just,” Ron took a seat across from her and tried to gather his words. “We all agreed that it would…happen around the same time.”
“I never agreed to that,” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “And what do you mean ‘at the same time’? Like an orgy? Ron, look, you’re my best friend and all but that’s a bit weird, don’t you think?”
Ron grimaced, “No! No, not an orgy…I mean like…within the same week or something.”
“Well, go find someone then, I know plenty of girls that are willing,” Hermione replied disconcert.
“Yeah, but what about Harry?”
“What about Harry, Ron? Look, it’s not that big of a deal to me, it may be to you, but not to me. Now bug off, I have to study for my Arithmancy test.”
It was true, that Harry and Ron had made a pact that the trio would all lose their virginity around the same time, as a way of ‘growing up’, Ron had declared. It was a right of passage, the way he figured it,
“Plus, we can all talk about it and stuff,” Ron said through a full mouth at lunch one day without Hermione present.
“I don’t think Hermione’s gonna go for that,” Harry replied skeptically.
“Why not? We’re her best friends!”
“Ron, do you not get the fact that we’re guys, like, at all? Has that completely escaped you?”
“No,” Ron frowned. “But, I’m just saying, friends talk about sex. We’re all friends, best friends even.”
“I’m just saying, Hermione’s pretty stubborn, she won’t go for it. And besides, we don’t have girlfriends, and God only knows how long that will take…”
“Who needs girlfriends?” Ron responded, spilling milk down his front.
“Well, who out there wants to sleep with us, Ron?” Harry leaned forward, quieting his voice. “Do you know anyone, because I don’t?”
“There are loads of girls!” Ron widened his eyes. “Loads, all willing. I can point out about fifteen girls at this table alone that would love to give the famous Harry Potter a blowjob.”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh, please, introduce me.”
Hermione was more mature than the both of the boys combined; she considered sex to be a sort of a sacred thing. She hadn’t even planned it with Viktor, even though they had been together for at least two months, she didn’t see herself as ready. Hermione couldn’t imagine herself as being sexy or provocative; most mornings she didn’t even bother to do her hair, but Viktor had often told her otherwise.
She was slumped against the wall in the back of the library, Viktor’s heavy breathing in her ears as his fingers slid inside her cotton panties. She had never let anyone be as close or intimate with her as Viktor, no one had ever tried. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she spread her legs a bit further, allowing Viktor’s fingers easy access.
“You are so…beautiful,” he breathed in her ear.
That was the turning point for Hermione, the moment that she knew that Viktor truly had felt something for her. No one had ever bothered to compliment Hermione on her looks, ever. Ron had always made her feel less than fantastic, with his snarky quips at her appearance.
“Hello, beaver, fancy a seat?” “Wow, Hermione, how long did it take you to get dressed, ten seconds?” “Oh, there goes Hermione Stranger!” “Nice shirt, Hermione, my grandma has one just like it.”
She figured that she might as well give up on Ron; there was no point in continuing her feelings with him, if he was never going reciprocate them. She repeatedly asked Harry earlier on if Ron liked anyone, and Harry’s answer was always a solid no. In fact, her hopes were shot down when she saw Ron hand in hand with Padma Patil at the Yule Ball. Harry swore to her, that he and Padma were both miserable the whole night, but she knew why Ron had done what he did. He wanted Hermione to feel inferior, he wanted her to feel like she wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the room, and he had done just that.
But Viktor had opened up the doors for Hermione; he truly did make her feel loved and wanted. He promised her that he would never forget about her, even if the feelings dissipated.
“Do you know how many girls you probably say that to a week?” Hermione replied gingerly, allowing him to kiss her knuckles.
Viktor scoffed, “Oh, please. Hermione, I’m not like they make me out to be. And you are a vonderful girl, you really are.”
“No one’s ever said that before,” Hermione grinned and her eyes searched the ground.
“You deserve to hear it every day,” he whispered in her ear, before he tilted his face to hers, and pressed his lips against hers.
“So, do you really love him?” Ron asked Hermione one day in Charms.
“What do you mean?” Hermione whipped her head around and flashed him a glare.
“Well, I just mean…you ought to watch out for him, Hermione,” Ron said nervously, and Harry rolled his eyes in the background.
“Ron, would you stop?” Hermione said fiercely. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, it’s not like you really care anyway.”
“But, I do care, that’s why I’m asking!” Ron insisted delicately.
“Are you jealous, Ron?” Hermione dared to ask.
“What?” Ron seemed disgusted. “No! You’re my best friend, am I not allowed to care?”
“Well, what the hell stopped you before from caring? Are you just jealous because I had sex and you didn’t? Is that what all this is about, sex? That’s pathetic! Ronald, for the love of God, grow up, will you? I can’t take this immaturity, from either of you,” Hermione spat bitterly.
“What the hell did I do?” Harry responded bewildered.
“Allowing him to carry on like this!” Hermione stood up and gathered her books. “When you know it upsets me.”
“He knows it too!” Harry replied angrily. “He’s just being a dick.”
“Yeah, well spotted,” Hermione stalked off angrily, slamming the door behind her as she left.
“I am not a dick,” Ron replied sourly.
“Yes, Ron, actually, you are being a huge dick, what’s with you lately, anyway?” Harry said honestly.
Ron pressed his hand to his forehead, “What, am I not allowed to worry? I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“You piss her off all the time!”
“Yeah, but that’s how me and Hermione are, y’know? We’re opposites, and it’s how it’s supposed to be. But no one else can hurt her, and
Viktor probably will,” Ron explained.
“Why would he hurt her?” Harry asked, miserably confused.
“Because, he’s a world famous quidditch player!” Ron said, as if this answer were obvious. “How much ass do you think he gets in a week?”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Honestly, Ron? We know Hermione’s not stupid, and if Krum wasn’t a good guy, she wouldn’t be with him.”
“Girls make that mistake all the time,” Ron mused.
“But Hermione’s not even like most girls, she can look after herself! You and I both know that, and if we need to step in, we will. But for now? I think we ought to just bugger off, because we’re only going to make her bitchier and she’s on her period this week.”
“How do you know that?” Ron asked jealously.
“Because every time she goes to the bathroom to buy tampons, you freak out and start having a panic attack,” Harry sighed.
Ron glared, “I do not, and I have a sister. I know about periods.”
“That still doesn’t stop you.”
Ron hated to think that Hermione told Harry more than he. He wanted Hermione to trust him, and occasionally when they’d walk in the hallway, he’d find himself brushing his hand up against hers, wanting her so desperately to take it. But she’d just push him, and laugh, and walk away. The only one who had any inkling about Hermione was Fred.
“You act like a five year old,” Fred told him one day. “You tease her, because you like her, and that’s childish.”
“Well what am I supposed to do?” Ron asked miserably.
Fred said simply, “Get the Bulgarian out of the way. She’s hooked up with him, right?”
“Well, I-“
Fred slapped him across the face, “Answer the question.”
“What the fuck!”
“Ron, I’m not playing these games today,” Fred replied harshly. “Don’t dick around on me now.”
“Well, you didn’t have to slap me!” Ron snapped, cradling his face.
Fred tilted his head in though and replied mockingly, “Yes, perhaps that was a bit too harsh…”
“Yes! Alright, she’s had sex with him,” Ron cried.
Fred shook his head, “You pathetic sap, she’s bonded to him now.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you have sex with a girl, chemicals are released, and she thinks that you’re meant to be together forever, y’know?”
“Not really, no,” Ron shook his head.
Fred ignored him, “And it’s worse when they’re virgins. Never have sex with a virgin, Ron, never.”
“But, why?”
“Because, that’s the worst possible Hell imaginable, they can’t wrap their heads around a onetime thing. They try and ask why you haven’t sent them an owl, or why you’re avoiding them in the hallways, it’s just the worst.”
“So, Hermione’s in love with Krum now?”
“I’m afraid so, brother,” Fred clapped Ron on the shoulder as his face fell. “But the good news is that she’s experienced! But the bad news: she probably contracted some fatal venereal disease.”
“How?”
“Well, he’s a famous Quidditch player, man! He’s gotten around, I’m sure,” Fred shrugged. “But don’t worry; you’ll get her some day. Hang in their soldier.”
And of course, the worst possible thing to ever happen was the last day of school, watching Hermione share teary goodbye kisses with Krum, pressing her head against his chest while he stroked her hair. Frustratingly enough, their relationship did not fade at all during the remainder of the school year, and he had to endure the mindless chatter about their relationship. Ron would have loved to have Hermione come to him, mascara and lip-stick smeared, tears streaming down her face, and collapse into his waiting arms. But, unfortunately, that day had never even came, and he wasn’t sure if it ever would.
Rating: R
Length: 2,127 words
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Viktor Krum, Fred Weasley,
Ships: Ron/Hermione, Viktor/Hermione,
Notes: A bit of a lulzy story.
Summary: Ron is wrapped up in Hermione's sex life, and his jealousy gets the best of him.
Ron wanted to be happy for Hermione, he wanted to listen to her babble excitedly and forget her words, and watch her blush. He wanted to see her suck in her breath, and fix her hair whenever he came around. But the worst part of it all was that the ‘he’ was not him, it was Viktor Krum. Which, of course, Ron couldn't even compare to. His plain ginger hair and ratty clothes were nothing compared to the tall, and handsome Viktor. His plain brown eyes, were nothing compared to his "dreamy" grey eyes.
Ron was complacent that morning at the breakfast table, as Hermione excitedly rushed over to join him and Harry, “Hi guys! Sorry I’m late…I was seeing Viktor.”
“That’s great, Hermione,” Harry nodded, genuinely happy for her.
But it was easier for Harry than it was for Ron; the worst part of it all was that Ron couldn’t even tell anyone about it. He simply couldn’t tell Harry that he had feelings for Hermione; he knew that it would muff everything up. Harry had a competition to worry about and he didn’t have time to deal with Ron’s emotions, simply because they were usually over reactive and high-tempered.
Hermione glanced over at Ron, with a look of expectancy on her face, “Er, wonderful.”
“Yes, isn’t it?” Hermione replied ecstatically. “Ever since the dance we’ve just gotten closer and closer.”
Ron and Hermione had gotten over their fight at the dance abruptly, because the next day afterwards word was going around that Hermione had actually slept with Viktor. Ron shuddered to think of that even happening, and then laughed at the fact that Hermione couldn't be that daft. She was saving herself, for something that she wouldn't tell Ron or Harry, but he was sure it was important.
“It can’t be true, can it?” Ron asked Harry frantically as they paced the hallways looking for her. “I mean, she couldn’t have!”
“Ron,” Harry said flatly. “What difference does it make? If she did, she did.”
“Yeah, but she ought to tell us!” Ron said adamantly. “We’re her best friends!”
“Yeah, but we’re guys,” Harry replied rationally. “And who wants to tell two guys, “Oh some famous quidditch player popped my cherry”?
Especially not Hermione.”
“She’s gonna be pissed, though,” Ron said darkly.
The rumor was concocted by Lavender Brown, claiming that she had ‘heard noises’ later on that night emitting from Hermione’s bed. Hermione insisted that ‘no one was even there’ and that Lavender was just trying to cause a stir.
“Wait, so it is true?” Ron stammered.
“Yes,” Hermione replied, trying to focus on her notes. “What’s the matter with that?”
“Well, it’s just,” Ron took a seat across from her and tried to gather his words. “We all agreed that it would…happen around the same time.”
“I never agreed to that,” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “And what do you mean ‘at the same time’? Like an orgy? Ron, look, you’re my best friend and all but that’s a bit weird, don’t you think?”
Ron grimaced, “No! No, not an orgy…I mean like…within the same week or something.”
“Well, go find someone then, I know plenty of girls that are willing,” Hermione replied disconcert.
“Yeah, but what about Harry?”
“What about Harry, Ron? Look, it’s not that big of a deal to me, it may be to you, but not to me. Now bug off, I have to study for my Arithmancy test.”
It was true, that Harry and Ron had made a pact that the trio would all lose their virginity around the same time, as a way of ‘growing up’, Ron had declared. It was a right of passage, the way he figured it,
“Plus, we can all talk about it and stuff,” Ron said through a full mouth at lunch one day without Hermione present.
“I don’t think Hermione’s gonna go for that,” Harry replied skeptically.
“Why not? We’re her best friends!”
“Ron, do you not get the fact that we’re guys, like, at all? Has that completely escaped you?”
“No,” Ron frowned. “But, I’m just saying, friends talk about sex. We’re all friends, best friends even.”
“I’m just saying, Hermione’s pretty stubborn, she won’t go for it. And besides, we don’t have girlfriends, and God only knows how long that will take…”
“Who needs girlfriends?” Ron responded, spilling milk down his front.
“Well, who out there wants to sleep with us, Ron?” Harry leaned forward, quieting his voice. “Do you know anyone, because I don’t?”
“There are loads of girls!” Ron widened his eyes. “Loads, all willing. I can point out about fifteen girls at this table alone that would love to give the famous Harry Potter a blowjob.”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh, please, introduce me.”
Hermione was more mature than the both of the boys combined; she considered sex to be a sort of a sacred thing. She hadn’t even planned it with Viktor, even though they had been together for at least two months, she didn’t see herself as ready. Hermione couldn’t imagine herself as being sexy or provocative; most mornings she didn’t even bother to do her hair, but Viktor had often told her otherwise.
She was slumped against the wall in the back of the library, Viktor’s heavy breathing in her ears as his fingers slid inside her cotton panties. She had never let anyone be as close or intimate with her as Viktor, no one had ever tried. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she spread her legs a bit further, allowing Viktor’s fingers easy access.
“You are so…beautiful,” he breathed in her ear.
That was the turning point for Hermione, the moment that she knew that Viktor truly had felt something for her. No one had ever bothered to compliment Hermione on her looks, ever. Ron had always made her feel less than fantastic, with his snarky quips at her appearance.
“Hello, beaver, fancy a seat?” “Wow, Hermione, how long did it take you to get dressed, ten seconds?” “Oh, there goes Hermione Stranger!” “Nice shirt, Hermione, my grandma has one just like it.”
She figured that she might as well give up on Ron; there was no point in continuing her feelings with him, if he was never going reciprocate them. She repeatedly asked Harry earlier on if Ron liked anyone, and Harry’s answer was always a solid no. In fact, her hopes were shot down when she saw Ron hand in hand with Padma Patil at the Yule Ball. Harry swore to her, that he and Padma were both miserable the whole night, but she knew why Ron had done what he did. He wanted Hermione to feel inferior, he wanted her to feel like she wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the room, and he had done just that.
But Viktor had opened up the doors for Hermione; he truly did make her feel loved and wanted. He promised her that he would never forget about her, even if the feelings dissipated.
“Do you know how many girls you probably say that to a week?” Hermione replied gingerly, allowing him to kiss her knuckles.
Viktor scoffed, “Oh, please. Hermione, I’m not like they make me out to be. And you are a vonderful girl, you really are.”
“No one’s ever said that before,” Hermione grinned and her eyes searched the ground.
“You deserve to hear it every day,” he whispered in her ear, before he tilted his face to hers, and pressed his lips against hers.
“So, do you really love him?” Ron asked Hermione one day in Charms.
“What do you mean?” Hermione whipped her head around and flashed him a glare.
“Well, I just mean…you ought to watch out for him, Hermione,” Ron said nervously, and Harry rolled his eyes in the background.
“Ron, would you stop?” Hermione said fiercely. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, it’s not like you really care anyway.”
“But, I do care, that’s why I’m asking!” Ron insisted delicately.
“Are you jealous, Ron?” Hermione dared to ask.
“What?” Ron seemed disgusted. “No! You’re my best friend, am I not allowed to care?”
“Well, what the hell stopped you before from caring? Are you just jealous because I had sex and you didn’t? Is that what all this is about, sex? That’s pathetic! Ronald, for the love of God, grow up, will you? I can’t take this immaturity, from either of you,” Hermione spat bitterly.
“What the hell did I do?” Harry responded bewildered.
“Allowing him to carry on like this!” Hermione stood up and gathered her books. “When you know it upsets me.”
“He knows it too!” Harry replied angrily. “He’s just being a dick.”
“Yeah, well spotted,” Hermione stalked off angrily, slamming the door behind her as she left.
“I am not a dick,” Ron replied sourly.
“Yes, Ron, actually, you are being a huge dick, what’s with you lately, anyway?” Harry said honestly.
Ron pressed his hand to his forehead, “What, am I not allowed to worry? I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“You piss her off all the time!”
“Yeah, but that’s how me and Hermione are, y’know? We’re opposites, and it’s how it’s supposed to be. But no one else can hurt her, and
Viktor probably will,” Ron explained.
“Why would he hurt her?” Harry asked, miserably confused.
“Because, he’s a world famous quidditch player!” Ron said, as if this answer were obvious. “How much ass do you think he gets in a week?”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Honestly, Ron? We know Hermione’s not stupid, and if Krum wasn’t a good guy, she wouldn’t be with him.”
“Girls make that mistake all the time,” Ron mused.
“But Hermione’s not even like most girls, she can look after herself! You and I both know that, and if we need to step in, we will. But for now? I think we ought to just bugger off, because we’re only going to make her bitchier and she’s on her period this week.”
“How do you know that?” Ron asked jealously.
“Because every time she goes to the bathroom to buy tampons, you freak out and start having a panic attack,” Harry sighed.
Ron glared, “I do not, and I have a sister. I know about periods.”
“That still doesn’t stop you.”
Ron hated to think that Hermione told Harry more than he. He wanted Hermione to trust him, and occasionally when they’d walk in the hallway, he’d find himself brushing his hand up against hers, wanting her so desperately to take it. But she’d just push him, and laugh, and walk away. The only one who had any inkling about Hermione was Fred.
“You act like a five year old,” Fred told him one day. “You tease her, because you like her, and that’s childish.”
“Well what am I supposed to do?” Ron asked miserably.
Fred said simply, “Get the Bulgarian out of the way. She’s hooked up with him, right?”
“Well, I-“
Fred slapped him across the face, “Answer the question.”
“What the fuck!”
“Ron, I’m not playing these games today,” Fred replied harshly. “Don’t dick around on me now.”
“Well, you didn’t have to slap me!” Ron snapped, cradling his face.
Fred tilted his head in though and replied mockingly, “Yes, perhaps that was a bit too harsh…”
“Yes! Alright, she’s had sex with him,” Ron cried.
Fred shook his head, “You pathetic sap, she’s bonded to him now.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you have sex with a girl, chemicals are released, and she thinks that you’re meant to be together forever, y’know?”
“Not really, no,” Ron shook his head.
Fred ignored him, “And it’s worse when they’re virgins. Never have sex with a virgin, Ron, never.”
“But, why?”
“Because, that’s the worst possible Hell imaginable, they can’t wrap their heads around a onetime thing. They try and ask why you haven’t sent them an owl, or why you’re avoiding them in the hallways, it’s just the worst.”
“So, Hermione’s in love with Krum now?”
“I’m afraid so, brother,” Fred clapped Ron on the shoulder as his face fell. “But the good news is that she’s experienced! But the bad news: she probably contracted some fatal venereal disease.”
“How?”
“Well, he’s a famous Quidditch player, man! He’s gotten around, I’m sure,” Fred shrugged. “But don’t worry; you’ll get her some day. Hang in their soldier.”
And of course, the worst possible thing to ever happen was the last day of school, watching Hermione share teary goodbye kisses with Krum, pressing her head against his chest while he stroked her hair. Frustratingly enough, their relationship did not fade at all during the remainder of the school year, and he had to endure the mindless chatter about their relationship. Ron would have loved to have Hermione come to him, mascara and lip-stick smeared, tears streaming down her face, and collapse into his waiting arms. But, unfortunately, that day had never even came, and he wasn’t sure if it ever would.