Who: Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley (Grab Me) Where: The Gryffindor Common Room When: Thursday after dinner What: An ambush between friends is still an ambush Rating: PG-13, say? For possible language Completed
It was cold in the common room. Hermione sat bundled up with a blanket by the fire, waiting. It had been weeks since they'd spoken more than three words to each other. Well that wasn't true, she had tried. She had spoken... a lot, but he would find some excuse to leave. Answer in one-word sentences. He was always looking for his damned chess set like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. That boy had never taken good care of his things. He'd always seemed to lose Scabbers, or rather Peter Pettigrew and of course he had blamed Crookshanks...
Hermione was perfectly aware that comparing losing a chess set to losing a pet that truly did have a mind of its own - his own - was rather unfair. Though with Pettigrew's mind...
But he'd been ignoring her for weeks now. Hermione pulled the blanket up and wrapped it tighter around herself as she lifted her knees up under her chin. How did he figure a chess set was more important than their... well, their friendship? She had dared to hope. How stupid was that? The second they'd gotten back to civilization, his attention had vanished. It hadn't even taken the time to waver, to give Hermione a warning, it had simply vanished entirely, all because of that stupid chess set.
But he wouldn't just walk past her this time. This time, she was ready. Her book lay next to her on the sofa and she had a blanket. She would camp out here all night if necessary but he was not going to walk past her with a mumbled "good night" this time.
Not this time. The fact it was New Years Eve could only help.