Ron. Ron Weasley.
Youngest son and second youngest child in a family of 9.
Best mate of the Chosen One. Basically just... Harry Potter's stupid friend.
I'm a fifth year. Prefect. Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
What of it?
OOC:
This is a roleplaying blog. I own nothing and only follow my fellow roleplayers.
Fred stands outside the Gryffindor dorms having a shouting match with the portrait of the fat lady who insisted that the password had been changed recently and that she wouldn’t let him in unless he gave it to her. Fred (obviously) had no idea what the new password was.
…
Fred had gotten out his wand and was heatedly waving it at the fat lady.
When she saw Ron she called him over with a note of desperation in her voice.
“Love, come over here an’ tell this crazy brother o’ yours the password before he does something rash”
Ron blanched when she called out to him. He had been considering sneaking away so escape notice, but now it was too late. He sincerely hoped that if that was George, he wouldn’t try to talk to Ron.
He stepped forward and saw out of the corner of his eye, to his relief, that it was Fred. Feeling much better, he tried to remember the new password. “It’s something with a lot of m’s… Mimbly mumbley? No, that’s not right..” He scratched his head. It was some plant, he remembered. Neville had told him about it… it was… er… “Mimbulus Mimbletonia!” he exclaimed suddenly, quite pleased with himself for remembering.
The fat lady was as relieved as Ron, and swung open to reveal the Gryffindor common room. With a sheepish grin at Ron, Fred stowed his wand and stepped through the opening.
Ron rolled his eyes and followed Fred through the portrait hole. “Why were you so mad at her, Fred?” he asked as the painting swung shut. “She’s only a portrait. It’s her job to keep you out if you don’t know the password.”
”Yeah, I know.” Fred ran his hand through his hair. “Thing is, George is going through a pretty rough patch, and it’s messing me up too.” Ron gave him a wierd look which Fred pretended not to notice. “But yeah, I’ve been feeling a little unbalaned, like when you’ve had just a taste too much firewhiskey. I used an untested magic pill to skip Umbrige’s class, I almost blasted a hole through the fat lady, and I even—”
Fred pauses and turns a bit red.
Hermione rolls over on the couch, the book falling out of her lap, and her smile turns into a frown, as she now faces away from the portrait. ((ooc: to make it less awkward…temporarily…muahahaha))
(ooc: Fred can you try not to control my character please? It’s fine here, but in the future, don’t say how someone else reacted to you? :) )
Ron wondered what this ‘rough patch’ had to do with the… things he had been doing lately? What could have messed him up that much? His annoyance at George temporarily dissolved, he worried for his brother now. What could be wrong?
He smirked, listening to Fred. Of course he would compare it to drinking firewhisky. Suddenly he had stopped talking and was looking a bit red. Ron heard a muted thud as Hermione’s book fell onto the rug, and he noticed her for the first time. At least she was asleep so he wouldn’t have to talk to her.
“And you even… what?” he asked Fred.
ooc: sorry. I just figured that there was no way Ron wouldn’t give a wierd expression, and I was careful not to define what sort of expression. But I won’t do it anymore if it bothers you. sorry!
Fred looked at Ron guiltily. “I was teasing your friend, Hermione after having just taken one of our unfinished and malfunctioning skiving snackboxes. I was feeling particularly giddy and not taking anything seriously, and she kept calling me Fred/Gerge, so I thought it would be funny to see her reaction if I kissed her and made her think it was George. So I did.”
He paused again, then added defensively. “It was a very non-intamate kiss. To the forehead. And she’s smart, she would’ve known if I said I was George then I was Fred. And I didn’t linger or blush or do anything to make her think it meant more than just teasing her. Nothing at all,” he repeated earnestly.
(ooc: It’s no problem. Just try not to get in the habit. ^-^)
Ron stared at Fred. That was… him. It hadn’t been George? But what if George had told him about it and he was lying now? No, why would he lie about something like that? Plus, it sounded like he felt bad about it and was trying to convince Ron not to be mad. Would Fred take the blame for something George had done? Or was he actually telling the truth?
“That was you? Hermione told me that she thought… George had kissed her! Was it really you?”
