Fine Line || Ron Weasley

Chapter 14

Isabelle stood outside the Slytherin dorms, holding her books. She was waiting for Ron to meet her here. The anticipation was killing her. She didn't understand why she was so nervous, it was a Weasley after all.

When she heard people walking in the corridors, she snapped her head up. She was filled with mild disappointment when she noticed it wasn't Ron. Then, she saw someone she wanted to see for a few days.

"Draco." She said when she saw him down the hall. "Hello."

"Good day, Isabelle." He spoke with a tense voice. "What are you doing out here?"

Isabelle shrugged. "Just meeting Ron here. We're going to do our project in the courtyard. He's going to help me carry all these books." She lifted her heavy backpack.

"Yeah, I've seen you with him." Draco huffed, an annoyed tone in his voice.

Isabelle remembered that she wanted to ask him something. "Are you going to the quidditch game tomorrow? I need someone to talk to." She asked, hoping that Draco would make time for her.

He shook his head immediately. "Do you actually think I have time for those silly games? I got sent here with a mission that I have to finish. Merlin, Isabelle. What a stupid question."

She was taken aback by his response. "You're still a teenager, Draco. You can have fun, and then do your business."

He rolled his eyes. "Tell me that when you're dead because I didn't do my work."

"I am grateful for your protection, but you shouldn't put your happiness at stake for me." Isabelle practically begged. "It's just a quidditch match. Pansy and Blaise are playing."

"I could give less of a shit who's playing." He replied gruffly. "I'm not going because I have to meet with Snape." He looked at his watch. "As a matter of fact, I have to do something now." Draco walked away without saying goodbye.

Isabelle felt horrible. Draco had that effect on her, always making her feel bad about herself. She usually ignored it, but now that her life was on the line it made it impossible to not think about. She was having a fairly good day, and it was ruined.

Her enthusiasm came back when she saw the tall, lanky, redhead strutting towards her. She smiled softly at his presence. He noticed her quickly, and smiled back.

"Hey, Isabelle." He greeted, standing in front of her awkwardly. "Having a good day?"

She cringed at the question. "Not really, but it's fine. How are you?"

"I'm fine." He shrugged. "So, we should get going. Let me take that heavy book bag." Ron extended his arm. He was wearing a short sleeve so his forearms were exposed. His veins were in view, and Isabelle noticed them.

He grabbed the bag from her hands, slinging it over his shoulder and moving to the side so she could lead the way. Isabelle started walking towards the beloved courtyard. She eventually slowed down her pace to stand next to Ron. He didn't seem to notice, because he hadn't said anything the whole way. He was lost in thought, or he really didn't want to talk to Isabelle.

When they got to their destination, she instantly threw herself on the grass. That was just what she needed. The pricklyness of the grass poking her skin in the best way. Ron set down the bag and sat cross legged next to Isabelle.

He had a small smirk when sitting down. "Why do you like the grass so much?" He blurted out.

Isabelle met his eyes and all she could see was curiosity. "I don't really know." She stared at the floor now. "I guess, growing up I wasn't really allowed to go outside, and when I did, the garden at the manor was nowhere as fresh as this one. This one smells like actual grass, the one at home smelled like the poison used to kill weeds." She chuckled, trying to add some humor to the situation.

"Oh man, that is horrible." Ron groaned. "I can't imagine not being able to go outside. I'm glad that you finally have some fresh grass. Back at the burrow we have hills and hills of the greenest grass. You would love it."

"I'm sure I would." She smiled sadly. "For now, this courtyard is all I need."

He nodded slowly. "This has taken a sad twist." Ron laughed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of jelly beans. He opened the box and offered one to her. "Some candy always makes me feel better."

Isabelle took one of the candies and popped them in her mouth. As she chewed, the flavor got worse. "What is this, Ron?"

He laughed at her distress. "Probably booger flavored." Ron showed her the back of the box, which had every flavor written down.

"Why would you buy this?" She asked, while swallowing the horrible jelly bean. "It tasted foul."

"That's the point." He explained while chewing on another one. "If you don't like jelly beans, then what's your favorite candy?"

"Exploding bonbons." Isabelle said, remembering the pack she snuck in the first week of school. "They are easily the best. What is your favorite?"

"Honestly, I like any type of candy." Ron spoke with food in his mouth, which would usually disgust Isabelle, but she just smiled. "But my favorites are chocolate frogs. I have all the cards."

"Really?" She said with surprise. "I used to buy them, but I would always get Dumbledore, and since my uncle doesn't like him, I couldn't buy them anymore."

"I have a whole lot of repeated cards if you want them. I have them in a box under my bed at home." Ron offered. This felt like they were actually friends.

"I would love that."

Sometimes Isabelle forgot about their differences. He was a Gryffindor, she was a Slytherin. She was a Lestrange, he was a Weasley. His family was part of the order, her mother is easily the most well known death eater. She was rich, he was poor. He lived in a burrow, she lived in a manor. They were the complete opposite, even to their hair.

He had the brightest orange hair that she has ever seen. It reflects light beautifully. Her hair was as dark as the night sky. It was black, sometimes even purple.

By the nature of the wizarding world, they shouldn't be able to coexist. But here they, laughing about candy and speaking of their favorite type of grass.