A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Twelve

"I can't believe you ate your entire meal and most of mine."

"Well, you weren't going to. It was actually good."

Blaise rolls his eyes when Ron stumbles into him for the fourth time.

"I told you not to drink that second Firewhiskey, I knew you couldn't handle it. I don't know why Madame Rosemerta let you have spirits."

"I'm...I am fine. I can still talk," Ron grunts, holding onto Blaise's arm.

"Yes," Blaise rolls his eyes again, pushing Ron away when he feels like he's sliding. "But you can barely walk. How are you supposed to make it all the way to the tower?"

Ron flourishes his hand. "With a little imagination."

Blaise stops to turn to him and Ron bursts out laughing, gripping onto Blaise's shoulder's to hold himself up. "My, you are a lightweight."

"Hey," Ron protests. "I weigh more than you!"

"That's not what..."

Blaise doesn't get to say what he wants because Ron is suddenly on top of him, and there's no air in his lungs, and his back is both freezing and aching, and all of Ron's weight is making snow creep into the small of his back.

And Ron, Ron is still laughing.

He somehow finds the stamina to push himself up, he has a hand next to Blaise's face and the other next to his shoulder.

"See," Ron says smugly, his grin seems permanently sewn on. "I weigh more than you."

"Thank you for the demonstration," Blaise wheezes out, coughing. "Now, if you don't mind..."

"You remind me of Hermione," Ron frowns all of a sudden. "There's something about you that doesn't tick me off. And I don't know what it is, but I think it has to do with you reminding me of Hermione."

Blaise feels suddenly enraged. "Please, do what you will, but do not compare me to a mudblood."

The frown that Ron sports is sad and unsettled, Blaise doesn't know why he finds that disturbing. "I didn't mean to upset you. And Hermione is nice, once you get to know her. I hated her when I first met her, too."

"Right, well, forgive me for being indifferent towards your girlfriend, but she is nothing compared to me."

Ron rolls his weight off and sits next to Blaise, his once permanent smile now a permanent frown. "She's not my girlfriend. I don't...I don't like her. Like that. She's nice, and pretty. And smart, very smart. But she'd never be my girlfriend."

"Oh, please," Blaise scoffs, sitting up and dusting his robe off. "She's basically flame over kettle for you. Everyone sees it."

The way Ron's eyes bulge out would be almost comical, if Blaise wasn't in such a sour mood. "What?"

"Granger, the girl we're talking about. Your very good friend that has gone missing. She's in love with you. She's been in love with you this whole time."

"Oh," Ron slouches. "That might be the reason she snogged me during the war," he says thoughtfully.

"She snogged you and you thought it was a friendly gesture?"

Blaise snorts. And he does it again. And then he just full on throws himself back and rolls in the snow because this idiot, this idiot right here, is the most thick-skulled ninny he's ever met.

Ron is happy again when Blaise sits up, he's got this goofy grin on his face and Blaise shakes his head at him. "I sure hope you don't go around snogging me now that we're friends."