Chemistry - Ron Weasley fan fic

35 𝑀𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠

"Watcha doing there Ronnie?"

1.9k words

Margo and Ron never spoke about what happened in the prefects bathroom again.

The next time they saw each other was the morning after. George was giving Ron a piece of his mind about meddling into peoples relationships, it was all fair advice, but Ron heard none of it. To busy on watching the way Margo ate her porridge sleepily.

He had found himself doing that a lot recently, watching her from a distance, she was never doing anything actually worthy of anyone's attention -reading a book, sneezing into her handkerchief- but Ron found it all adorable enough to stare in awe.

He went up to her after breakfast, aiming to talk about the night before, but of course backing out at the last second. So instead Ron cracked a joke or two at George's expense.
It seemed to work, Margo was laughing, even if it was laced with pity from how bad the jokes truly were.

Ever since then the pair had almost forgotten what happened between them; almost.

It was currently Wednesday night. Margo was sat in her bed, book in hand, her wand perched against the chestnut bed frame, light illuminating from its tip. The book itself wasn't a love story or riveting adventure most people adored and cherished, it wasn't a thriller and it wasn't about a galaxy far far away.

It was fraying at the edges, coffee stains and mug imprints from when lavender had guessed it was a conventional coaster. Some pages were ripped in half, from when she would run with the book to class or down the common room steps. It was a battered old thing.

It was just a book about the benefits of using 'Hippogriff feathers' as good remedy's for the Surrainian flu. Yes, it sounds mind numbingly boring, but to Margo it was one of the most interesting ideas in the world.

It's what Margo enjoyed most, healing. It made so much sense to her, helping the ones in need. Madame pomfrey truly opened her eyes to it, being a healer wasn't just about patching up the kids with a bruise on their knee or a bump on their head, sometimes a healer had to mend a broken heart, a fragile soul.

Margo dreamed to help someone, the way she needed help.

Father didn't want her to be a healer of course, but father didn't want her to be anything, just another house wife to a mindless death eater. She shivered with disgust just thinking about it.

As always Margo was far away with the fairies, that she nearly didn't hear the light knock that resounded around the room.

Abruptly jumping from her place in bed, she tip toed to the large oak door, intrigued at who could be standing on the other side. Was it a teacher? Like Mcgonagoll, or even worse, Snape. Was it one of her roommates? No they were all tucked away in bed. Was it an animal? A murderer? He-who-must-not-be-named.

Nope. It was just Ron. Wait Ron?

"Ron?"

The freckled boy stood bouncily, his heels most likely cracking from the speed they hit the ground over and over. A broad, excited smile was plastered in his face, along with bright gleaming eyes.

Ron did not say a word, grabbing Margo's hand and lugging her away from the peace and quiet of her dormitory. She whispered a spell quickly, the door shutting, before turning back to Ron, a whirlwind of confusion coursing through her body.

"What are you doing Ron!?" She said, shouting angrily while at the same time whispering. "Where are you taking me?!" The ginger just looked back at her, the same glint painted in his eyes never ceasing.