Various Array of One Shots ✔️

Not Just A Mudblood >> Ron Weasley X Reader

Title: Not Just A Mudblood

Paring: Ron Weasley X Reader

Warnings: none

Spoilers: hints to Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince but doesn't go anywhere with it

A/N: (h) means Hogwarts house

______________________________

"That potions lesson was bollocks, Harry, even Hermione was flat out trying to finish," Ron muttered, giving Harry's borrowed book a distasteful stare. "How'd you even -,"

Harry grinned, turning to Ron, still walking. "You're just in the grumps because you're rubbish at -,"

"Look out!" A second year cried out, but as the child reached out to steer Harry out of the way, he didn't manage to grab Ron, and the lanky red-haired boy ended sprawled like a long-legged ginger spider, tangled with a kind-faced (h/c) girl.

"What happened?" Ron mumbled.

"You've made me late for Quidditch practice!" You rubbed your head, shaking the stars off you were seeing. Your eyes finally focused, and saw the split seam of your bag and the mess over the stone floor and Ron's rumpled shirt. "Oh - and my ink's spilled! I'm so sorry!"

"You - you play Quidditch?" Ron rubbed his head.

You blush, as red as the boy's hair, "N-no. I'm not cool enough. Or flexible or agile, I, er, I go to the matches and draw the players." You gather your papers that had exploded all over the floor upon impact to the youngest male Weasley, and added, "I'm attempting to create a spell that'd make drawings move. I know you can make photos and paintings, but -,"

As soon as you were on your feet, the horn for the start of the Quidditch match and the announcement from Lee Jordan ("Ravenclaw versus Slytherin!") met your ears, you gave a squeak and rushed off.

"I've got to go!" You call back to the boys, unsure if they could hear you.

And they could.

"Who was that?" Ron mumbled, still in shock. He looked at his best mate, and added, "Who was that? D'you know?"

A sigh came from behind the pair of boys. "Tell me you didn't just ask that," a feminine know-it-all voice chided. "You've been partners together with her in Charms more times than I can count on both hands! She's the reason you passed Defence Against The Dark Arts in third year! That's __________ _________ of (h) house, and you spilled mostly all of her ink over her." Hermione sprouted.

"Hey! She ran into me!" Ron cried.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because you didn't get out of the way, Ronald."

That being said, the ink stain came out well, but Ron couldn't vouch the same for the thoughts of ________ that cramped his mind with the image of her.

----------------------------------------------------

The next time the infamous (h) and redheaded Gryffindor ran into each other - once again, literally - was a week later, whilst leaving the Great Hall. Ron was only half-listening to whatever Harry was saying, but his ears caught something much more interesting than the topic of Pygmypuffs? The Australian Quidditch team?

It was Draco Malfoy.

Laughing?

He turned to the unnatural sound, and was shocked. The white-haired Slytherin was smiling, shoulders shaking with a laugh. Ron could've sworn he hadn't seen Draco in such a good mood. Or any mood that involved showing teeth that weren't bared in an attempt to scare the opposing fiend.

"Check it out," Pavati Patil elbowed Hermione. "Malfoy's smiling."

So it wasn't just Ron seeing things. But why was he smiling? It was then his eyes had to look twice. And then look again. Did he need spectacles like Percy? He looked once more.

There you were, laughing along with Draco.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron nodded to his bushy-haired friend, "Since when are ________ and Draco buddies?"

The clever girl shrugged. "_______'s not exclusive with her friendships, unlike two stubborn boys I know," she glances to Harry, who has turned his conversion to Ginny, "She's just a friendly person." Hermione pursed her lips alike their Transfiguration professor when slightly agitated, "Why do you care?"

"Get out of the way, mudblood!" A voice boomed. Once again Ron's head whipped toward the small (h), to see her faced with Crabbe and Goyle, the big bullies' arms crossed like scary gargoyles. "Go back to your muggle filth."

"Hey!" Ron's voice yelled, "Zip it, or I'll thump you all! Leave _______ alone!"

Before a fight could break out, like a flash, ________ had sped out, leaving the Slytherins and Gryffindors to explain to Professor Snape what had exactly happened and failing to excuse themselves from a full month of detention.

When he was finally free, Ron ran to where he last saw _______ headed. He didn't know where he was going, but he did know, he had to find her and see if you were okay. He'd seen the affects of that awful slur on Hermione, and knew he had to make sure you weren't going to be too upset. Ron hadn't known you long, but he did know: you were a nice person. Someone who didn't deserve to feel uncomfortable in the place you made your home.

"________?" He called out tentatively, hopelessly lost. Or was he? "________?"

He heard a sniffle, and a scuffle of feet. And then, suddenly, knocking into him, sending him once again onto his back, was you; a rumpled, tear-stained shying you which he felt his heart wrench at the sight at.

"Ron?" Your voice cracked.

"__________," he whispered. "I came to find out if you were okay."

You rolled from your position on your his lap, sitting awkwardly on the stone floor. "Wh - why? I'm just a - a mudblood. I'm not even supposed to be at this school, I'm muggle t-trash." You hiccup.

Ron sits, his heart breaking. Reaching to brush your tears away, he sighs, "No, ________, that's not true. You're not rubbish. You're really fun - you made Draco laugh. You're smart; I bet Hermione hasn't even considered making drawings move by themselves."

Ron cradles your face in his hands, cupping your cheeks carefully, slowly. Your eyes sparkle in the torch-light, and he can't help but think that they're the most beautiful eyes he's ever had the privilege to look into.

"R-really?" You breathe.

He nods. "Really."

Tears spring from your eyes again, and you lean forward and cry once more, this time onto his robes. Through your tears, Ron swore he could hear you saying words, but they were muffled by the sobs. Finally, he made out a sentence -

"...then I end up crying on the guy I like..."

Adjusting you, Ron cradled your neck, making sure you could see him. He waited until your crying passed, and within minutes, he had guided your lips to his, and were kissing by torchlight on the north corridor.

That was also the way the two of you were found an hour later by Filch and Mrs Norris.