Y/n: we have five people trying to kill us right now, what do we do?!
Ron: Actually it’s more like eight-
Y/n: IM SORRY! WAS I NOT SPECIFIC ENOUGH?!
Y/n: we have five people trying to kill us right now, what do we do?!
Ron: Actually it’s more like eight-
Y/n: IM SORRY! WAS I NOT SPECIFIC ENOUGH?!
Fred: Have you ever been in Ginny's room before?
Ron: She pushed me out the window and told mom that I fell.
Part 2 of who I think the ninjago characters would be if they were in harry potter
Morro or Harumi: Draco Malfoy no questions asked
Kai or Cole(I can't decide): Ron Weasley they both have his traits
You can send me a message if you want another character
Velma and Shaggy are magic-less versions of Hermione and Ron
Why do people say that Percy or Ron deserved to died instead of Fred? You could argue whether Fred's death was necessary or not, or be in denial about it. That's fine. I'm pretty sure it was supposed to upset you, but claiming that another Weasley should've died in his place is so stupid. If I could save a character, it would be Fred because it's such a tragedy for the Weasleys but how would Percy and Ron's deaths been any better? If anything, Ron's death would've been even more tragic and turned the bittersweet ending to just... bitter. Explain to me how the burden of survivor's guilt would ever leave Harry and Hermione (because lbr, the only way Ron's dying is by sacrificing himself for his friends.) Explain how their friendship would be a-okay after Ron dies (they're a trio. Break one leg of a chair and it falls apart.) Explain how Harry would ever get over it, and not slap Dumbledore when they meet at King's Cross before he says "goodbye cruel world" and joins Ron. Too dark? Okay, explain how Harry could ever think the words, "All was well," after his bestie dies and justify how unfair it would be to take his parents, his mentor, his godfather, his favourite teacher and his best friend away from him?
I suspect it's the nihilistic logic that the only way to make up for your mistakes is by sacrificing yourself. Atonement and redemption is impossible. You don't deserve second chances, and the opportunity to become a better person. You're only allowed to do the world a favour by dying... which is a pretty fucked up message to send. And the funny part is that... Percy and Ron aren't even ex war criminals, or child murderers who started as bad guys and have to do that One Big Redemptive Act and Poof to finish their redemption arcs (you know, the guys that you can't accept are evil and desperately need “redemption” arcs for so you could feel less guilty about shipping them with the good guys.) Percy and Ron are just teenagers who made mistakes, and people believe that the only way they'd be forgiven is by sacrificing themselves. It's so fucking weird.
ok so random things just pop into my head at random times and my mind just went ‘sam winchester is the son of ron weasley and hermione granger’
why does it make sense
fizzing whizbee (part three)
professor lupin / reader
summary: trying to concentrate on studies, but professor lupin’s been on your mind. slightly smutty. more parts to follow, so stay with me!
One week. One whole week. That’s all it’d been. So why did it feel like months? The Easter holiday was wasted; he’d been all you could think about.
‘Idiot,’ you muttered to yourself quietly, rubbing your eyes. You were in the library, hunched over an enormous Charms textbook, copying out some notes on a freezing spell onto some parchment. Though you’d been there for probably an hour now, you’d barely filled half a page, stopping every two minutes as Professor Lupin once again wormed his way into your brain. You sighed, closing the tome defeatedly. He was next. No, you thought - Dark Arts was next. That was the important thing, your studies.
You continued your mental argument all the way through the corridor, so distracted you barely noticed when Ron tapped you on the shoulder, having caught up to walk with you.
‘What?’ You said, impatiently.
‘Hello would be nice.’ He frowned, offering to take the Charms book.
‘Thanks,’ you said, slightly reluctantly passing it to him, now able to sling your bag over your shoulder comfortably.
‘Dark Arts next,’
‘Yes, well done.’ You replied, sounding quite cold.
‘What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird all week - don’t try and deny it,’ he said, as you began to scowl at him.
‘I - urgh, nothing. Sorry. Girl stuff,’ he nodded quickly, looking away embarrassed. Finally, you reached the classroom, and you entered. Clearly, you were quite early, only Neville sat patiently at the front of the classroom. You looked at the blackboard.
Test today. One person per desk!
He’d drawn a stick man, bearing his teeth guiltily. Ron groaned as he read the board.
‘First day back,’ he said, slumping down into a chair. You took the desk just in front of him, next to Neville’s at the front.
Five more minutes passed, and the class was full, and loud. Lupin descended the stairs as he always did, and you noticed, he was wearing his black cloak, no glasses today. Your heart seemed to quicken as you looked at him for longer, and you put your hands into your lap in order to stop them fidgeting.
‘Good morning, everybody. Now, I’m sure you’re aware, I trust you’ve all seen the board today. Yes, it is a test, no it will not count towards your final grade, it’s simply an indicator for me to see where you are at the moment. It’ll help me, as your Professor, to work out the best possible way to help you.’
I can think of a few ways, you thought. You held back your smile.
‘It’ll be half an hour, very short - does anyone have any questions before we begin?’
The class was silent. Lupin laughed a little.
‘You don’t need to look so upset with me.’
With a flick of his wand, the papers appeared in front of you all, and there was a collective sigh, and one by one, heads went down, quills began scratching away.
Ten minutes in now - don’t look up, you thought. You didn’t want to seem to eager. But he was right there in front of you. You stole a glance. He was reading.
Eighteen minutes, and you looked again. Still reading. He twiddled his wand silently, and you watched his hand for a moment.
Twenty-four minutes. Twenty-five.
Twenty-six, and he picked up his quill, marking something down. You met his eye. You flushed red immediately, but he didn’t look away. You thought you could see a smile, but it was so subtle you thought you could’ve imagined it. Do something, you thought, I can’t just stare. You bit your bottom lip softly, and then gave him a small smile. He scanned the classroom quickly, before giving you a quick wink, looking back to his book. There was definitely a smirk on his face now.
Thirty minutes was up, your quills stopped working. You’d finished your paper, fairly happy with it’s content. You turned around to look at Ron. He was almost green with unease.
‘Well done, everyone, well done. I know tests like that can be dreadful, but as I said before, it’s just to let me know where you are with the work. Now, we still have half an hour’s lesson time; as way of congratulations, perhaps I’ll let you go early. But you aren’t to make lots of noise in the corridors,’ he smiled as everyone became quite animated again, ‘Dumbledore’ll have my head. Again, well done,’ he called over the fumbling of bags and chatter. ‘You’ve all done very well.’
‘So?’ You said expectantly. Neville shrugged, wincing a little.
‘Was alrigh’- think I might’ve waffled on in the twelve mark question,’ he replied.
‘Oh, that’s okay, Nev. It’s not a proper test, anyway.’
‘You two - ’ Professor Lupin was standing behind you, and smiled warmly, ‘You two, do you think I could borrow you?’
‘Yeah,’ said Neville, setting his bag back down on your desk. You kept yours on your shoulder, almost ready to run away with embarrassment. He waited until the classroom was empty, and clasped his hands together.
‘I’m in need of two pupils to represent the Dark Arts department in a parents evening next week; is that some thing you might be interested in?’
‘Us?!’ You both chimed, looking at him incredulously.
‘Shouldn’t it be Harry and Hermione?’
‘Miss Granger is representing the Charms department - and I rather think Harry has enough on his plate at the moment, don’t you?’ You chuckled nervously.
‘What’ll we have to do?’
‘Oh, just greet people, answer questions, that sort of thing. Smile and wave, really. I’ll be there, you don’t need to worry,’ he said reassuringly.
‘Alright!’ Neville smiled, clearly feeling that surge of pride again.
‘Excellent! And … ?’ He turned his head to you.
‘Y - yeah, okay, yeah I’ll do it.’ You couldn’t really say no, not when they were both looking like desperate puppies.
‘That’s wonderful - I shall inform you both of the time and date this weekend; thank you, Mr Longbottom, you may leave,’ Neville nodded, collecting his bag. ‘I wanted to talk to you about your essay on Hinkypunks - ’
‘I haven’t done an essay on Hinkypunks?’ Lupin gestured to Neville silently, who made his way to the door. ‘Oh - oh, right, yes I remember,’
‘Now, I wanted to bring you up on a few points, namely, this first one … ’ He mimed tapping some paper on his desk, and Neville closed the door behind him. You exhaled slightly. You thought to yourself for a moment - oh no, this is it. Professor Lupin was going to tell you he’d made a mistake - he was going to say it was irresponsible and wrong, that someone had snitched, or that he actually found you really unattractive. You gulped.
‘Why so nervous?’ He asked, bringing his hand up to your cheek. You almost flinched, not used to his closeness.
‘If you’re going to tell me to leave, then get it over - I can’t bear this,’ you said quickly, looking away.
‘Tell you to leave?’
‘No - no, you mad thing, that’s not why you’re here.’ The look of relief on your face amused him, and he walked behind his desk, put his wand down, and was back over again.
‘Come to the window,’ he said, guiding you with his arm, and you faced it, looking out onto the surrounding hills. ‘Now,’ he continued, pressing up close behind you. You gasped slightly. ‘When we’re in class, you’re not to do that.’
‘Do what?’ You asked, innocently. He pulled your hips into his, and you could feel his erection.
‘This. Can you feel that?’ He ground his groin against you, his voice in your ear and breath on your neck.
‘Yes,’ you said. ‘I don’t think that’s my fault. Maybe you just can’t control yourself, Professor?’ There was a few moments silence. You swallowed, slightly regretting your accusation.
‘If I have to tell you once more,’ he whispered, but sternly; ‘Then there’ll be serious consequences.’
‘Do they include bending me over your desk, Sir?’ You smirked as he pulled you closer.
‘Don’t — be — funny.’ He dug his thumbs into your hips and you inhaled sharply. ‘And next week, at the parents evening; can you promise me you’ll be on your best behaviour?’
‘Yes, Sir.’ He corrected.
‘Yes, Sir. I’ll behave.’
‘See that you do. Impress me.’ He said, his lips brushing against your ear - and then retreated. You turned to face him.
He gently enveloped your hand in his, and you tried to adapt quickly to his change in tone, ‘What have you got next, sweetheart?’
‘How ghastly. You should go.’
‘But - but I want to stay here, can’t I just sit with you for a while?’
‘No, darling; I’ve a class in here, I’m sorry. If you’d like, I - ’ he paused, furrowing his brow apprehensively. ‘I could take you into Hogsmeade before the parents evening?’ You beamed.
‘Oh! I’d love that! Really?’
‘Yes, though you’re to keep it quiet … ?’
‘Of course, I promise.’
‘Okay, sweetheart. Now, go, you’ll be late,’ he said, shooing you along, giving you a pat on the backside. You giggled, giving him a final wink before disappearing out of the door.
A/N: this one feels boring compared to the others; parents evening will be exciting. expect some Lucius stuff from that one.
𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑺𝒂𝒑𝒏𝒂𝒑 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑮𝒆𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝐻𝑄 !𝘤 !𝘤
𝐾𝑎𝑟𝑙 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑜𝑏𝑠 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝐵𝑎𝑑𝐵𝑜𝑦𝐻𝑎𝑙𝑜 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑏𝑢𝑟 𝑆𝑜𝑜𝑡 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑇ℎ𝑒_𝐸𝑟𝑒𝑡 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑇𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑛𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑒 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑁𝑖ℎ𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑢 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦𝐼𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑡 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑅𝑎𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑜 !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑇𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑜_ !𝘤 !𝘤𝘤
𝑃ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑧𝑎 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡 !𝘤 !𝘥𝘢𝘥
𝑆𝑏𝑖 𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒
Those are the ones I currently write for! But if you’d like to request another show or series I will see if I could do so.
I do not write smut! It makes me uncomfortable.
I will write Yandre if requested :)) (at my best)
I will take any AU requests or parental smp stuff.
How Harry Potter Characters Would React To Your New Tattoo (pt 1.)
Description: You got a brand new Tattoo, but you didn’t tell any of your friends.
Golden Trio Era
You stood in front of him, showing off your first, and probably not last tattoo. Harry sat there, eyebrows knitted as he examined the work.
“I really like it, I’m just curious why you didn’t tell me?” He asked, still looking at the tattoo. You could tell he was a bit suspicious of your motives, I mean how could he not be? He is constantly being lied too, or manipulated, it’s practically burned into his brain to question people’s motives.
“I wanted it to be a surprise!” You answered, hoping that would satisfy him. He turned his head to the side slightly.
“It’s actually really quite pretty.” He admitted.
“You really think so?” You ask.
“Yes, It suits you very well. Next time, maybe, just give me a little heads up?” He replied.
“Blimey! Is that where you were all day?” Ron asked as he grabbed your hand to inspect the tattoo. “Had us worried sick.”
“Well do you like it?” You asked, turning ur hand so he could get the full visual effect.
“It’s a bit much, innit?” He scrunched his nose.
“Ron! You don’t have to be such a dick about it.” You yell, ripping your hand away.
“Alright, I’m sorry, let me see it again.” He takes your hand to look at the tattoo again. “It’s not awful.”
You roll your eyes. “I guess it’s pretty nice, if you look at it just right.” He continues.
“Oh my god, you are going to be in so much trouble!” Hermione exclaimed.
“What do you mean? My parent’s already know I got it.” You explain.
“No, not with your parents, with the school! You can’t have any visible tattoos, it says so in the handbook.” Hermione retorted.
“Oh, I didn’t know that-“ You began.
“It’s alright.” Hermione interrupted as she pulled concealer out of her bag. “If they find out you have it, they will make you remove it. It’s much to pretty to be removed.”
She began to coat ur hand in foundation, “This is muggle makeup I found, it covers almost anything up. It really is quite pretty, the tattoo, couldn’t you have waited until we were out of school to get it though?”
“No you did not!” She screeched, grabbing ur arm to inspect that tattoo. “No you did NOT!”
“What do you mean?” You asked, shocked at her yelling.
“You went and got a bloody tattoo…” She began, staring right into your eyes, “without me!”
You let out a nervous, but relieved laugh. She was holding onto your hand with a death grip, taking in as much of the tattoo as possible.
“This is badass.” She declared. “Now I have to get one too.”
“I was thinking about getting some more color added later.” You contemplated.
“Yes! I mean it already looks good, but imagine it with a little red, or purple, right there!” She said pointing at different spots on ur tattoo. “Please let me come with you next time!”
Pairing: Ron Weasley x reader
Request: They have this sort of magic penpals thing or a gentler version of a howler that allows them to talk. Reader or Ron can't sleep and they start using it to talk because they can't sleep at night. The other can't tell the first few nights but then realizes that it helps the other person sleep. So they start giving them quiet stories of their day (with a silence charm so they can laugh without waking the others in the room) and even wait up for their 'call'. Anonymous
A/N I found an article describing something called “Vibe” which is apparently a thing mentioned in Order of the Phoenix and Half-Blood Prince. I hope I understood it correctly 💛
You close your eyes trying to focus on creating a clear line to him. This has been your nights for the past few months. You hardly remember how it happened, but it had become your favourite time of the day by now. You’d never admit it but it really helped you sleep. You didn’t feel like you’d gotten a good night’s sleep ever since you started at Hogwarts. It seemed no matter what the universe were determined to prevent you from having a normal year and by year six, it seemed that this was your only time to relax.
“Muffliato,” you mumble before putting your wand away for the night. You’ve found that it’s quite the convenient spell to make sure you don’t wake up the other girls.
Snape yelled at me today... again.
You think back to the humiliating moment in Potion’s today when he made fun of you for not knowing the answer. His words played over and over in your head making you feel like the dumbest Ravenclaw to ever exist. More than anything, you hated feeling dumb just because you struggled with one class. You get perfect marks in everything else, but Potions just didn’t make sense to you.
I heard. But at least it was only Snape. You can’t take criticism from a guy, who’s never even heard of a shower, too hard.
You can’t help but giggle a little at that. It’s been a joke ever since you started and something you both liked to point out whenever Snape had been a jerk.
You’re right. Still sucks though, you pause for a moment before adding, are you alright after last night?
He’s quiet for so long that you’re wondering if he’s gone to sleep without saying goodnight. You bite away at your nail hoping you didn’t push him too hard. You hadn’t had any time during the day to talk to him but you knew he’d been in the hospital wing all day. To be honest, you’d been worried sick.
I’m better now. But ehm, Lavender broke up with me.
There’s no hiding the smile plastered on your face hearing the Lavender and him finally ended things. You’ve really hated having to see him lock lips with someone else every second of the day. You couldn’t hide the fact that you had a huge crush on Ron ever since you met him the first time as a first year. His charm and habit of always messing up was endearing to you. And while you’d never seen yourself falling for someone who used the word “blimey” in front of almost every sentence, it was exactly what you’d done.
Because I kept mumbling your name in my sleep.
You go radio silent. This is so far away from what your conversations are usually about. A couple of days ago, Ron was telling you yet another story about Fred and George’s shenanigans, and now he was telling you that he’s been mumbling your name.
Blimey, I actually convinced myself you’d be happy to hear that.
That’s when you realise that Ron can’t see the smile on your face right now.
I am. I’m really happy.
You start picking at a loose thread in your quilt wishing you could go see him right now. Unfortunately, you don’t have a clever map to let you know who’s walking the halls so you can’t sneak out.
You catch glimpses of his thoughts as he projects them to you. It never ceases to amaze you how quickly he caught onto this sort of magic. You close your eyes watching images of him and you flash before your eyes as if he’s flipping through a photo album. You even catch yourself drifting off eager for tomorrow to come so you can actually see Ron.
But you’re already fast asleep dreaming and for the first time since you started at Hogwarts, you get a good night’s sleep.
Harry & Ron + Listening to Hermione talk about how many school rules they’re gonna break
Me looking at all the people who have been blessed with the ability to draw their own fan art I’m so jealous 😭😭😭
warnings : smut, use of she/her pronouns, dry humping, allusions to breeding kink, dom!ron, sub!reader, daddy kink, tears, dacryphilia.
summary : dry humping with ronnie, but he ends up fucking his sweet little girl.
a/n : not a fluff but hope this helps a bit @underappreciated-spoon-321 <3
“b-but, but what happened?” you whimpered as your boyfriend got rid of your shorts and underwear, his bare figure beneath you causing drool to drip down your chin.
and that, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by ron. seeing as the drool coated his fingers that were now resting atop your soft thighs, he started chuckling darkly, gathering the drool with his thumb and pushing it inside of your mouth, pressing his finger against the flat of your tongue, “such a pretty baby, m’love. she’s drooling over her daddy, yeah?” he asked softly and you gave an eager nod, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
but that only made ron’s chuckles get louder as he pushed his thumb further, earning a gagging sound from the back of your throat, “grind on your daddy’s lap, gorgeous. c’mon, let me see it” his soft voice encouraged and you wasted no time, starting to drag your heat all the way up and then down his hard cock.
your pace was slow at first, but as you picked it up, ron couldn’t keep biting back his moans, and he unintentionally moaned right in your ear, only motivating you to go faster, “please let me hear you, daddy” you begged quietly.
and what his princess wants, his princess gets.
your boyfriend’s hips started grinding up into yours at a fast and rough pace, “best fucking girl-- merlin!” he groaned, gripping your waist and bringing your chest closer to his face, his mouth instantly starting to trail kisses from your clavicle and back down to your boobs, “you’re doing, great, poppet” he whispered, hissing when he felt you clench around nothing, his cock pressed to your cunt and begging to be inside of you.
“wanna be inside when i- fuck!” he struggled, burying his face deeper into your chest as he exhaled in frustration, “wanna breed you.”
and you couldn’t possibly deny him — who were you to do that anyway?
nodding your head vigorously, you lifted your hips a bit as ron started stroking his shaft and slowly guided it up and down your slit, stopping at your entrance as his tip prodded at it.
ron was a very calm, self controlled man on a daily basis. but right there and then, and basically whenever you would have sex, he felt like he could stop controlling himself, to free himself from all and finally let you see what you were doing to him.
“m-merlin” he groaned lowly as he guided his cock inside of you, filling you up to the brim as you both let out shaky breaths, “this tight little pussy will be the death of me, poppet.”
your nails scratched from his shoulder blades and down to the small of his back as the ginger hissed in your ear, “you- you sound so pretty, daddy...” and he did, even his hisses sounded immaculate.
“yeah?” came ron’s deep voice from right beside your ear, feeling him smirk against the skin of your neck as he continued to tease you, “swear i could kill someone and you’d still praise me for it, sweets.”
and it was true — because ron, in your eyes, was the closest definition the word ‘perfect’ had.
“forever n ever, daddy.”
Harry: The Weasleys tried being honest with each other like a few years ago. The fight lasted for weeks. No one talks about it. The ministry calls it, "The Incident."
hermione: [finds R + H written in ron's old textbook]
hermione, to ginny: does the H stand for me or harry?
ginny: you're literally the one married to ron.
hermione: that doesn't answer my question.
Hermione: You realize a breakfast that size is meant for people who are about to go work in a field for twelve hours.
Ron: Yeah, well, the rest of my day’s open, so- Maybe that’s what I’m gonna do.
Sirius: I have a question.
Sirius: Can a person breathe in a washing machine while it’s on?
Sirius: Obviously, this is all hypothetical.
Remus: WHERE is James?
Title: Double Hazlenut Almond Milk Macchiato
Prompt: Day 2/Meet-Cute
Summary: Muggle AU. Hermione Granger is new in town, and she has a pretty complicated coffee order.
Trigger Warnings: N/A
It’s seven o’clock on a Monday, and the morning rush is in full swing at The Burrow. Forming a line out the door and around the block are dozens of important, yet fidgety business people with complicated coffee orders, and little patience.
Ron Weasley opens every morning, Monday through Friday, and he handles it well. Most customers are regulars, and he’s already memorized their morning joe specifications.
The majority of the morning crowd has been forgiving of the occasional slip-up. Seven years of working the first shift at the family-owned coffee shop means a history of accidental extra-whipped cream, almond milk instead of soy, and finger-slips on the espresso machine, and the customers always return.
Maybe it’s because they’re too tired to notice their Americanos are actually Flat-Whites. Or maybe it’s the hospitable vibe of The Burrow that makes complaining about bad latte art seem as petty as telling Grandma her muffins are dry.
Every now and then, there’s a new customer, and Ron has to whip out his earnest, people-pleasing attitude to assure that the newbie sticks around. He’ll do what it takes to turn them into a regular, and make them thankful that they chose the local joint over the cookie-cutter corporate shop across the street.
‘Take an interest in their day!’ his Mum would say. ‘Validate their order! Then make sure to ask their name, and use it!’
Monday morning, at seven o’clock, is one of those times.
“Double Hazelnut Almond Milk Macchiato.”
The customer is about Ron’s age, and probably new in town. She doesn’t yet know that at The Burrow, ‘Double Macchiatos’ are simply called ‘Tall Macchiatos’, and instead of ‘small’, ‘medium’, and ‘large’, The Burrow’s sizes go by their family pets in order of mass: Pig, Errol, and Chudley.
“Great,” he says, grinning, “coming right up.”
“Make sure it’s almond milk,” she reminds him.
“And hazelnut,” she adds.
“I heard you,” says Ron impatiently. Have a little trust, lady.
“Okay, just making sure!”
“Can I get a name for the order?”
Ron stares at the girl. Her brown eyes are round and drowsy, her hair is unkempt and wild, which contradicts the clean lines of the business suit she’s wearing. She looks so normal. “Can you repeat that?”
He hadn’t asked her to spell it, and the way she emphasizes each syllable reminds Ron of how adults would read to him when he was a kid. It’s condescending.
“Coming right up, Hermione.”
Ron resists rolling his eyes. He can handle a double hazelnut almond milk macchiato, and if he screws it up, she probably wouldn’t even know the difference. Most customers wouldn’t.
As Hermione paces by the counter checking her watch, he whips up a medium, double, hazelnut, almond milk ...cappuccino. Just to test his theory, of course.
“Here you go!”
He hands the drink to Hermione and watches as she takes a sip. Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, he’s convinced she can tell…
Then her face melts back to a polite grin. “Thank you!”
Maybe she can’t. Ron shakes his head as she turns and leaves, turning his attention to the next customer’s order.
Hermione returns on Tuesday morning at 7 am sharp. Her hair is pulled back into a stiff, tight ponytail that just barely lassos her wild mane, and she probably checks her watch fifteen times while in line. Ron suppresses a scoff—she can just make coffee at home if she’s in such a rush.
“Morning, Hermione!” he says with a forced smile. “Same as yesterday?”
She looks taken aback at first, clearly not expecting him to remember her name. “Um, yes, same as yesterday.”
“Coming right up.”
“Medium, Double, Hazelnut—“
“Almond Milk Macchiato,” he says. “I got it.”
“Okay,” shrugs Hermione, eyebrows raised. “Then do it.”
What’s her problem? “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she snaps. “I need coffee, not a counseling session.”
Wow. He wants to retort back, but his mother’s nagging voice in his head stops him. ‘Always be extra-polite to grumpy customers; remember they haven’t had their coffee fix yet.’
“Of course,” Ron says through gritted teeth, in as polite a tone as he can manage. To satisfy his desire to argue, he whips her up a medium, double, hazelnut soy macchiato, only half-hoping she doesn’t notice.
He doesn’t get a chance to see if she does, because she’s out the door before a single sip.
Her Wednesday return is accompanied by a looming dread in the pit of Ron’s stomach. He hates rude people, especially at 7am. Ron spots her impatiently tapping her foot in line, as usual, and prepares himself for their interaction.
“Hello,” he says politely, stopping himself before the natural ‘how are you?’ escapes his lips. “What can I get for you today?”
“Hi,” she says with a sheepish smile. “The same as yesterday.”
“Erm,” she stammers, her expression confused, “a medium—“
“I’m kidding,” he laughs, “I know your order.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
She pays, and Ron fixes her a medium double caramel almond milk macchiato.
“Sorry about yesterday,” she says when she picks up her drink. “You were just trying to be nice, and I was rude.”
“Oh,” starts Ron, who isn’t expecting an apology. “That’s okay. Happens a lot during the morning shift.”
She smiles and nods before turning around to leave, taking a sip on her way out the door. Ron watches for her reaction, but doesn’t catch it.
She seems to be in a better mood by Thursday.
“The usual,” is all she says when she arrives at the counter, but this time she’s smiling. She looks different when she smiles—pretty. Something else unidentifiable replaces the dread in his stomach. Ron wonders if it’s the first time he’s seen her smile or if it’s just the first time he’s noticed.
But based on the tired circles under her eyes, she’s exhausted, so Ron prepares her a medium triple hazelnut almond milk macchiato. An extra shot of espresso never hurt anyone, and maybe it’ll help her get through the day. Or maybe, she’ll experience a coffee crash and have to return to The Burrow later.
Both good things.
“Just so you know,” she says as Ron hands over her cup, “it’s been a stressful week. I started a new job, and it’s not going well.”
“I’m—I’m sorry to hear that,” says Ron. He looks into her eyes, and for a moment, they soften. There’s more to her tough and professional exterior.
“These have made the week just a little better,” she adds, holding up her macchiato, before smiling softly and turning to leave.
Of course, Hermione requests her usual on Friday, and Ron is quickly running out of ideas for ways to screw with her order.
In celebration of the weekend, he might be able to pass a large off as a special treat. Other than that, he has to stick to the request—a double hazelnut almond milk macchiato. The first of the week. Better not mess it up.
As soon as he pops the cap onto her cup, it looks empty. He reaches for his marker again and scribbles something else—his phone number.
He’s not sure what compels him to do it. Maybe it’s because the larger size leaves so much white space. It could be because the grumpy brunette has been occupying his thoughts all week — he’s never purposely tried to fuck up someone’s coffee five days in a row.
Or maybe, it’s because when she walked in this morning, he smiled, and he just wants to learn more about the woman who thinks she knows what a double hazelnut almond milk macchiato tastes like.
She’ll probably ignore it anyway.
But later that day, his phone buzzes on the counter, and he scrambles for it faster than he’d run away from a mob of spiders.
The text is from an unknown number, but there’s no mystery. It only took five days, but you finally got my order correct!
Ron scowls at his phone. She knew? She was duping him?
Well, Hermione, why’d you keep coming back?
As soon as the message sends, he’s impatient, tapping his foot, pacing, and jittery. Just like Hermione every morning.
His phone flashes and buzzes, and Ron almost drops it by checking too quickly.
It wasn’t for the coffee…