The Taming of The Viper

Chapter 13: Just Friends

This is the worst meeting spot you could've picked, Ron. Amicia poked her head out from behind the corner of the Shrieking Shack. Where the hell is he?

It was a cloudy and grim afternoon, which only added to the eeriness Amicia felt while waiting alone behind the shack, clutching her wand for security. Though she knew the haunting rumors were not true, that the shack's purpose was to give Remus Lupin a safe place to transform during full moons, and even having been inside the shack herself last year, the hairs on her arms still stood upright being near the derelict structure. The walls creaked with even the slightest breeze and Amicia took a step back from the building, fearing it may collapse at any moment. Looking up at it from below, she could've sworn it was swaying.

She went to take another step backwards when a pair of hands suddenly grasped her from behind, fingers digging into her ribs, her most ticklish spot. Amicia squealed and wriggled away, bookbag slipping off of her shoulder. She spun around, heart pounding as she wielded her wand at the attacker, incantation ready on the tip of her tongue.

"I yield!" Ron put his hands up and submitted through bursts of laughter.

"Bloody hell." Amicia lowered her wand and stared daggers at him, "I could've killed you!"

Even while scolding Ron, she couldn't help but feel her heart swell at the sound of his laugh. 

"I'm your best friend, you wouldn't dare." He bent down to pick up her bookbag, astonished by the weight of it, and slung it over his shoulder.

"Don't test me Ron, I've got two others." She stuck her wand into the pocket of her denim jacket and started walking down the grassy hillside, happy to put some distance between her and the shack.

Ron followed, a skip in his step, the tassels on his knitted hat swinging side to side. "But I'm your favorite," he said without question. He hadn't confirmed this fact with her, but he liked to think it was true. It was silly of him to be jealous of his friends, he knew that, and yet he still wanted to believe that she secretly favored him out of the three.

"I don't have favorites," the smile she was suppressing said otherwise, "but even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I can't handle another egomaniac in my life at the moment."

"Ah, right." Ron sniffled, painfully aware of the cold reddening his nose. "How could I forget..."

Any mention of Malfoy, even if not by name, made his stomach churn. He was inwardly furious with Hermione for conjuring up this plan, blindsided by Harry supporting it, and shocked that Amicia ever agreed to it. This was supposed to be his year.

It was all so vivid in Ron's head. He pictured himself working up the nerve to ask Amicia to the Yule Ball and her eagerly accepting. She'd wear some fussy dress that she'd complain about all night and they'd dance until they were the only people left standing, swaying together on the dancefloor. He'd tell her how beautiful she looked, that she always looked beautiful, and she'd laugh it off with burning cheeks because she's incapable of accepting a compliment. He wouldn't be flippant though, he'd say it until she believed it, because he's spent four years thinking it every bloody day. Then he would kiss her, and pray to every god imaginable that she would kiss him back.

I've still got time, Ron reassured himself, the ball isn't until December. This'll be over by then, it has to be.

The hillside ended, the grass gradually turned to stone, and they found themselves on the main road of Hogsmeade, High Street. The picturesque village was quiet at this hour, just as they had hoped. Shopkeepers were using this time to tidy up the front window displays or sweep the entryway. Some were beckoning for Ron and Amicia to come in.