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Post by Saliha on Jul 22, 2007 17:13:24 GMT -5
Ron/Hermione moments:p68
Ron tripped dazedly toward Harry and Hermione.
“You’re OK,” he mumbled, before Hermione flew at him and hugged him tightly.
“I thought—I thought—”
“’M all right,” said Ron, patting her on the back. “’M fine.”
“Ron was great,” said Tonks warmly, relinquishing her hold on Lupin. “Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you’re aiming at a moving target from a flying broom—”
“You did?” said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck.
“Always the tone of surprise,” he said a little grumpily, breaking free.
p82-83
“Yeah,” said Harry. “Like Barty Crouch, turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid’s front garden. They probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him—”
“Don’t!” squealed Hermione. Startled, Harry looked over just in time to see her burst into tears over her copy of Spellman’s Syllabary.
“Oh no,” said Harry, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. “Hermione, I wasn’t trying to upset—”
But with a great creaking of rusty bedsprings, Ron bounded off the bed and got there first. One arm around Hermione, he fished in his jeans pocket and withdrew a revolting-looking handkerchief that he had used to clean out the over earlier. Hastily pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the rag and said,
“Tergeo.”
The wand siphoned off most of the grease. Looking rather pleased with himself, Ron handed the slightly smoking handkerchief to Hermione.
“Oh . . . thanks, Ron. . . . I’m sorry. . . . ” She blew her nose and hiccuped. “It’s just so awf-ful, isn’t it? R-right after Dumbledore . . . I j-just n-never imagined Mad-Eye dying, somehow, he seemed so tough!”
“Yeah, I know,” said Ron, giving her a squeeze. “But you know what he’d say to us if he was here?”
“’C-constant vigilance,”’ said Hermione, mopping her eyes.
“That’s right,” said Ron, nodding. “He’d tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I’ve learned is not to trust that cowardly little squit, Mundungus.”
Hermione gave a shaky laugh and leaned forward to pick up two more books. A second later, Ron had snatched his arm back from around her shoulders…
p84
Hermione’s eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put his arms around her once more, and frowned at Harry as though reproaching him for lack of tact. Harry could not think of anything to say, not least because it was highly unusual for Ron to be teaching anyone else tact.
p97
“This isn’t your average book,” said Ron. “It’s pure gold: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Explains everything you need to know about girls. If only I’d had this last year I’d have known exactly how to get rid of Lavender and I would've known how to get going with . . .Well, Fred and George gave me a copy, and I’ve learned a lot. You’d be surprised, it’s not all about wandwork, either.”
p98
“I’ll pack these for you,” Hermione said brightly, taking Harry’s presents out of his arms as the three of them headed back upstairs. “I’m nearly done, I’m just waiting for the rest of your underpants to come out of the wash, Ron—”
p101
Hermione made purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes.
“Nice,” said Ron, as with one final flourish of her wand, Hermione turned the leaves on the crabapple tree to gold. “You’ve really got an eye for that sort of thing.”
“Thank you, Ron!” said Hermione, looking both pleased and a little confused.
Harry turned away, smiling to himself. He had a funny notion that he would find a chapter on compliments when he found time to peruse his copy of Twelve Fail-Safe ways to Charm Witches;
p105
“Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?” asked Scrimgeour.
“No, I’m not,” retorted Hermione. “I’m hoping to do some good in the world!”
Ron laughed.
I added this because I love me some snarky Hermione.
p119
Wow,” he (Ron) added, blinking rather rapidly as Hermione came hurrying toward them. “You look great!”
“Always the tone of surprise,” said Hermione, though she smiled.
I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings.”
“Wasn’t he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?” asked Hermione.
“Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end,” conceded George.
“But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party.” said Fred.
“He used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his—”
“Yes, he sounds a real charmer,” said Hermione, while Harry roared with laughter.
“Never married, for some reason,” said Ron.
“You amaze me,” said Hermione.
I just love this conversation, and the trio dynamic.
p123
“Come and dance,” he added abruptly to Hermione.
She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up. They vanished together into the growing throng on the dance floor.
“Ah, they are together now?” asked Krum, momentarily distracted.
“Er—sort of,” said Harry.
p134
“Ron! Ron!” Hermione called, half sobbing as she and Harry were buffered by terrified guests: Harry seized her hand to make sure they weren’t separated as a streak of light whizzed over their heads, whether a protective charm or
something more sinister he did not know—
And then Ron was there. He caught hold of Hermione’s free arm...
p136
“You’re amazing, you are,” said Ron, handing her his bundled-up robes.
p144
Ron let out a noise between a whimper and a groan and dropped onto the sofa: Hermione joined him, gripping his arm. “They’re all right, they’re all right!” she whispered, and Ron half laughed and hugged her.
p146
everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione’s slow, deep breathing. Harry glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside him. Ron had had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron’s. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands.
p167
“Will you stop it!” she cried out on the third evening of Kreacher’s absence, as all light was sucked from the drawing room yet again.
“Sorry, sorry!” said Ron, clicking the Deluminator and restoring the lights.
“I don’t know I’m doing it!”
“Well, can’t you find something useful to occupy yourself?”
“What, like reading kids’ stories?”
“Dumbledore left me this book, Ron—”
“—and he left me the Deluminator, maybe I’m supposed to use it!”
A bit of bickering for old time’s sake.
p173
Ron glanced at Hermione, then said, “What if purebloods and half-bloods swear a Muggle-born’s part of their family? I’ll tell everyone Hermione’s my cousin—”
Hermione covered Ron’s hand with hers and squeezed it.
“Thank you, Ron, but I couldn’t let you—”
“You won’t have a choice,” said Ron fiercely, gripping her hand back. “I’ll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it.”
Hermione gave a shaky laugh.
p222
“What’s happened to him?”
“Splinched,” said Hermione, her fingers already busy at Ron’s sleeve, where the blood was wettest and darkest.
Harry watched, horrified, as she tore open Ron’s shirt.
One-track mind. Sue me.
p226
Harry looked over at Hermione and the question he had wanted to ask – about whether Mrs. Cattermole’s lack of a wand would prevent her Apparating alongside her husband – died in his throat. Hermione was watching Ron fret over the fate of the Cattermoles, and there was such tenderness in her expression that Harry felt as if he had surprised her in the act of kissing him.
p229
Ron and Hermione, now talking softly behind him in the tent
p254
Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you staying or what?”
“I. . . ” She looked anguished. “Yes—yes, I’m staying, Ron, we said we’d go with Harry, we said we’d help—”
“I get it. You choose him.”
“Ron, no—please—come back, come back!”
She was impeded by her own Shield charm; by the time she had removed it he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron’s name amongst the trees.
After a few minutes she returned, her sopping hair plastered to her face.
“He’s g-g-gone! Disapparated!”
She threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry.
Ron, you git.
p308
Harry crammed the broken locket into his pocket, knelt down beside Ron, and placed a hand cautiously on his shoulder. He took it as a good sign that Ron did not throw it off.
“After you left,” he said in a low voice, grateful for the fact that Ron’s face was hidden, “she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone . . . ”
He could not finish; it was only now that Ron was here again that Harry fully realized how much his absense had cost them.
“She’s like my sister,” he went on. “I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It’s always been like that, I thought you knew.”
p309
Hermione slipped out of her bunk and moved like a sleepwalker toward Ron, her eyes upon his pale face. She stopped right in front of him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak, hopeful smile and half raised
his arms. Hermione launched herself forward and started punching every inch of him that she could reach.
“Ouch—ow—gerroff! What the—? Hermione—OW!”
“You—complete—arse—Ronald—Weasley!”
She punctuated every word with a blow: Ron backed away, shielding his head as Hermione advanced.
“You—crawl—back—here—after—weeks—and—weeks—oh, where’s my wand?”
p312
But I was listening to the radio really early on Christmas morning and I heard . . . I heard you.”
He was looking at Hermione.
“You heard me on the radio?” she asked incredulously.
“No. I heard you coming out of my pocket. Your voice,” he held up the Deluminator again, “came out of this.”
“And what exactly did I say?” asked Hermione, her tone somewhere between skepticism and curiosity.
“My name. ’Ron.’
“The little ball of light was hovering there, waiting for me, and when I came out it bobbed along a bit and I followed it behind the shed and then it . . . well, it went inside me.”
“Sorry?” said Harry, sure he had not heard correctly.
“It sort of floated toward me,” said Ron, illustrating the movement with his free index finger, “right into my chest, and then—it just went straight through. It was here,” he touched a point close to his heart. “I could feel it, it was hot.
And once it was inside me I knew where I was supposed to do, I knew it would take me where I needed to go.
p314
Hermione put the vanquished Horcrux into the beaded bag, then climbed back into her bed and settled down without another word.
Ron passed Harry the new wand. “About the best you could hope four, I think,” murmured Harry.
“Yeah,” said Ron. “Could’ve been worse. Remember those birds she set on me?”
“I still haven’t ruled it out,” came Hermione’s muffled voice from beneath her blankets, but Harry saw Ron smiling slightly as he pulled his maroon pajamas out of his rucksack.
p321
“I think we should vote on it,” said Ron. “Those in favor of going to see Lovegood—”
His hand flew into the air before Hermione’s. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own.
“Outvoted, Harry, sorry,” said Ron, clapping him on the back.
(…)
When Hermione had returned to her bunk, Harry lowered his voice.
“You only agreed to try and get back in her good books.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” said Ron brightly, “and this is a bit of both.
p362
his glasses fell off as he was bundled out of the tent: all he could make out were the blurred shapes of four or five people wrestling Ron and Hermione outside too.
“Get—off—her!” Ron shouted. There was the unmistakable sound of knuckles hitting flesh: Ron grunted in pain and Hermione screamed, “No! Leave him alone, leave him alone!”
“Your boyfriend’s going to have worse than that done to him if he’s on my list,” said the horribly familiar, rasping voice.
p375
“Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback.”
“Wait,” said Bellatrix sharply. “All except. . . . except for the Mudblood.”
Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.
“No!” shouted Ron. “You can have me, keep me!”
The echoing bang of the slammed cellar door had not died away before there was a terrible, drawn out scream from directly above them.
“HERMIONE!” Ron bellowed, and he started to writhe and struggle against the ropes tying them together, so that Harry staggered. “HERMIONE!”
“Be quiet!” Harry said. “Shut up. Ron, we need to work out a way—“
“HERMIONE! HERMIONE!”
p376
Harry felt the ropes fall away and turned, rubbing his wrists, to see Ron running around the cellar, looking up at the low ceiling, searching for a trapdoor.
p377
“What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!”
Hermione’s screams echoed off the walls upstairs, Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists…
p382
“And I think,” said Bellatrix’s voice, “we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Ron had burst into the drawing room; Bellatrix looked around, shocked; she turned her wand to face Ron instead—
“Expelliarmus!” he roared
p422
“She tasted disgusting, worse than Gurdyroots! Okay, Ron, come here so I can do you . . . .”
Mind. In. Gutter.
p442
“What’ll happen to it, do you think?” she asked, “Will it be alright?”
“You sound like Hagrid,” said Ron, “It’s a dragon, Hermione, it can look after itself. It’s us we need to worry about.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well I don’t know how to break this to you,” said Ron, “but I think they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts.”
All three of them started to laugh, and once started, it was difficult to stop.
It was just too adorable to pass up.
p488
“Where’s Ron?” asked Harry. “Where’s Hermione?”
“They must have gone up to the Great Hall already,” Mr. Weasley called over his shoulder.
“I didn’t see them pass me,” said Harry.
“They said something about a bathroom,” said Ginny, “not long after you left.”
p500
Ron and Hermione, both with their arms full of large, curved, dirty yellow objects, Ron with a broomstick under his arm.
“Where the hell have you been?” Harry shouted.
“Chamber of Secrets,” said Ron.
“Chamber—what?” said Harry, coming to an unsteady halt before them.
“It was Ron, all Ron’s idea!” said Hermione breathlessly. “Wasn’t it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after you left, and I said to Ron, even if we had the other one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn’t gotten rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The basilisk!”
“What the—?”
“Something to get rid of Horcruxes,” said Ron simply.
Harry’s eyes dropped to the objects clutched in Ron and Hermione’s arms: great curved fangs, torn, he now realized, from the skull of a dead basilisk.
“But how did you get in there?” he asked, staring from the fangs to Ron.
“You need to speak Parseltongue!”
Ron made a horrible strangled hissing noise.
“It’s what you did to open the locket,” he told Harry apologetically. “I had to have a few goes to get it right, but,” he shrugged modestly, “we got there in the end.”
“He was amazing!” said Hermione, “Amazing!”
“So . . . ” Harry was struggling to keep up. “So . . . ”
“So we’re another Horcrux down,” said Ron, and from under his jacket he pulled the mangled remains of Hufflepuff’s cup. “Hermione stabbed it. Thought she should. She hasn’t had the pleasure yet.”
p502-503
“Hang on a moment!” said Ron sharply. “We’ve forgotten someone!”
“Who?” asked Hermione.
“The house-elves, they’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they?”
“You mean we ought to get them fighting?” asked Harry.
“No,” said Ron seriously, “I mean we should tell them to get out. We don’t want anymore Dobbies, do we? We can’t order them to die for us—“
There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.
“Is this the moment?” Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. “Oi! There’s a war going on here!”
Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.
“I know, mate,” said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, “so it’s now or never, isn’t it?”
p514
She had pulled Ron behind a tapestry. They seemed to be wrestling together, and for one mad second Harry thought that they were embracing again; then he saw that Hermione was trying to restrain Ron, to stop him running after
Percy.
“Listen to me—LISTEN RON!”
“I wanna help—I wanna kill Death Eaters—”
His face was contorted, smeared with dust and smoke, and he was shaking with rage and grief.
“Ron, we’re the only ones who can end it! Please—Ron—we need the snake, we’ve got to kill the snake!” said Hermione. But Harry knew how Ron felt: Pursuing another Horcrux could not bring the satisfaction of revenge; he too wanted to fight, to punish them, the people who had killed Fred, and he wanted to find the other Weasleys, and above all make sure, make quite sure, that Ginny was not—but he could not permit that
idea to form in his mind—
“We will fight!” Hermione said. “We’ll have to, to reach the snake! But let’s not lose sight now of what we’re supposed to be d-doing! We’re the only ones who can end it!”
She was crying too, and she wiped her face on her torn and singed sleeve as she spoke, but she took great heaving breaths to calm herself as, still keeping a tight hold on Ron, she turned to Harry.
p523
“How—how’re we going to get in?” panted Ron. “I can—see the place—if we just had—Crookshanks again—”
“Crookshanks?” wheezed Hermione, bent double, clutching her chest. “Are you a wizard, or what?”
“Oh—right—yeah—”
Ron looked around, then directed his wand at a twig on the ground and said “Wingardium Leviosa!”
p597
Everywhere he looked he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most.
“It’s me,” he muttered, crouching down between them. “Will you come with me?”
They stood up at once, and together he, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall.
Once again, the trio. I just love them.
And I won’t quote from that epilogue.
Well, okay. I’ll quote from it
“Parked all right, then?” Ron asked Harry. “I did. Hermione didn’t believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I’d have to Confund the examiner.”
“No, I didn’t,” said Hermione, “I had complete faith in you.”
“As a matter of fact, I did Confund him,” Ron whispered to Harry
Back on the platform, they found Lily and Hugo, Rose’s younger brother, having an animated discussion about which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.
“If you’re not in Gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you,” said Ron, “but no pressure.”
“Ron!”
“So that’s little Scorpius,” said Ron under his breath. “Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother’s brains.”
“Ron, for heaven’s sake,” said Hermione, half stern, half amused
A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned towards Harry.
“Why are they staring?” demanded Albus as he and Rose craned around to look at the other students.
“Don’t let it worry you,” said Ron. “It’s me. I’m extremely famous.” credit : hunter-graphics
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