Through The Years (Ron and Hermione Short Stories)

Inwardly Smiling

Takes place during the 3rd movie. I'm pretty sure this is the only story that will be based off of a movie scene. 

Snow covered the ground, turning every cottage in Hogsemede into a gingerbread house coated with sugar icing. A few lazy flakes drifted down here and there, adding to the snow-globe-like effect. The town was flooded with Hogwarts students, all fully enjoying their day off. With the exception of two such students, who were not enjoying the day in the least.

"For the last time Crookshanks did not attack your precious rat!" said Hermione, trying hard to keep her voice calm. "And I wish you would quit bringing it up, especially on a day like today."

"I wouldn't have to bring it up if you could control that bloody cat of yours!" yelled Ron, oblivious to the many stares he was drawing from the other Zonko's customers. Hermione opened her mouth to give some sharp retort, but thought better of it, and stormed out of the joke shop.

Ron stood frozen of a few moments, processing what had just happened. He then dropped the bag of dung bombs he had been holding and raced out of the shop after Hermione. He found her, sitting a little ways off, on a snow covered bench staring at the ground. As he approached her, she sighed, "I just wish you would stop being so mean to Crookshanks. He's just a cat. He can't help it. It's in his nature to chase rats."

Watching her say all this to the snow at her feet, Ron felt a small, guilty sensation rise in his stomach and decided that the Scabbers/Crookshank's argument could be continued some other day. Silently he sat down next to Hermione and placed a hand on her arm. "Sorry."

Hearing Ron's unexpected apology, Hermione knew they were done with this particular argument; for now anyways. After a moment of awkward silence, in which Ron's hand remind on her arm, he cleared his throat and suggested weakly, "How about we go up to the Three Broomsticks and have a Butterbeer."

"Alright then." smiled Hermione, standing up. "Lead the way."

The Three Broomsticks was a small, homely sort of pub, dirty, but not uncomfortably dirty. It was also wonderfully warm after the sharp cold of outdoors. Ron and Hermione found an empty table near the back of the bar and Hermione sat down. "I'll get the drinks." Ron offered.

Hermione noticed that Ron had quite a time ordering, as he seemed to be distracted by the glittering, slim figure of Madam Rosemerta, the owner of the pub. When Ron sat down opposite her with the drinks she couldn't help noticing, with a twang of (What was that? Jealousy? No, it couldn't be) that his ears were a bright red. Ron ignored the fact that Hermione was glaring at him and simply passed her a Butterbeer. After they each took a sip of their drink, Hermione spoke. "So..."

"So what?" asked Ron when she didn't continue. Sometimes Hermione could be so vague.

"What do you think about everything that's been going on with Sirius Black?" Hermione sighed, as if this was an over obvious question.

"Well, I'm worried about Harry." said Ron staring into his mug. "I mean, it must be awful knowing you have an experienced killer after you."

"Yes, it must be simply dreadful." shuddered Hermione. "Sometimes I wonder how Harry can handle it. First You-Know-Who kills your parents, then he tries to kill you, and even when it's not him trying to kill you then it's one of his most deadly supporters. Sometimes I can't believe how brave he is. " she took a sip of Butterbeer, letting the warmth that it provided comfort her.

"Well, I don't care if Harry's got a hundred murders after him." said Ron in a sudden outburst, slamming his mug down rather harder then he intended to. "I'm going to stick with him."

Hermione smiled. She had always admired Ron's loyalty and willingness to do whatever it took to stick by his friends. Aloud she said, "So will I. I have a feeling that everything is only going to get harder before this is all over, for Harry... for all of us."

"You're starting to sound like Professor Trealawney." commented Ron, grinning. Hermione smiled, and finished off the rest of her drink.

"If only Black wasn't on the loose, then Harry would have been able to visit Hogsmede with us. That would have cheered him up. It's really too bad." sighed Hermione, staring at the dirty table top.

"It's not that bad." mumbled Ron, mostly to himself, glancing up at Hermione. Her cheeks turned a faint pink at his comment.

"Well we best get going if we want to see anymore of Hogsmede before its time to go." said Hermione standing up. Ron crammed his knitted hat on his head and followed her out of the cozy pub into the crisp cold of winter.

They trudged down the snow covered street passing groups of Hogwarts students standing here and there, eating sweets from Honeydukes and showing each other the latest Zonko's products. In the main square there was a choir of dwarfs singing Christmas carols.

"How about we go up to the Shrieking Shack." suggested Hermione, "It's supposed to be the most haunted building in all of Britain."

"Sure." answered Ron, eager to see the fabled haunted house.

They walked to the outskirts of town and through a thin stretch of forest until they came to a rusted barb wire fence. Ron place one of his mitten covered hands on the loosely tied barb wire and stared out at a building that looked as if a good gust of wind would bring it tumbling down. The walls were decaying and parts of the roof had fallen in. Even from this distance, a shrill creaking noise could be heard as the wind blew its way through the shack's many holes.

"It's meant to be the most haunted building in Britain. Did I mention that?" said Hermione distractedly.

"Twice." said Ron, grinning at her.

"Oh, Would you like to move a bit closer." said Hermione smiling back.

"Huh?" Had he heard her right. Move closer?

"To the Shrieking Shack I mean." Hermione made a quick comeback, seeing at once the mistake she had made.

"Oh no, I'm fine here." Ron's ears grew scarlet and he stared at the ground, inwardly smiling.