Jingle Bell, Ron

Part V

It had been an accident.

Well, Ron figures that a lot of his life had been kind of like an accident. He always just managed to stumble into trouble one way or another. Nott had launched the quaffle into the air, and Ron had launched himself after it.

With both hands.

Fault followed him like a virus, and he was terrible at avoiding it, so it had become habit to just—well—apologize.

"Blaise, I'm sorry, I thought I was better—"

"Weasley."

"I just didn't. Well, I let go of the broom, and. I thought I had the broom locked with my legs."

"Weasley."

"I didn't do it on purpose, I swear. I'm not violent, I'm just big. And heavy. I."

"Weasley!" Blaise shouts at Ron's shocked face, where he's holding his hands up as if that would help him explain why Ron had toppled over his broom and onto Blaise, where they both plummeted into a snow-covered ground from the weight of Ron's body. Right into an opening of the Dark Forest. "I'm not dying, I just fell off my broom. Why are you being dramatic?"

"I just don't want you to think I did it on purpose."

"Right, because violence is your first option for everything. Also, you're quite rubbish at receiving, did you know that?"

Ron flushes and thanks the cold air of the night that he can use as an excuse to mask his embarrassment. "I. Yeah, I did, actually. Don't know how I made it onto the team that year."

Blaise sighs a chuckle and shakes the snow off his person, shaking his head. He picks up his broom and takes a look up. The moon illuminates the arch of his cheekbones and gives him an alien glow, very different to the glow the common room fireplace gives him. He looks sculpted from stone and ice, smooth and delicate to the touch.

He realizes that Blaise is looking at him expectantly, and Ron clears his throat. He purses his lips and then bends to pick up his broom. "Yeah."

"What?"

"What?"

"I asked you if you remember what direction we came from."

"Ah," there he goes, flushing again. He gulps and nods. "No."

"Brilliant."

Blaise takes off walking in a random direction after he whips his wand out, and Ron huffs before following after him. "I know we're near the edge. The light from the fire-posts are still visible through the trees."

"Have experience in the Dark Forest, do you?"

"More than I'd like," Ron grunts as he pushed himself over a fallen log. "Reckon you've been in here a few times to boot, too."

He hears Blaise make a disgruntled noise of displeasure and leaves it at that. They walk for a while in silence. Ron focuses on the crunch their shoes make when they step on the snow. He times his steps with Blaise's so they're walking with the same foot at the same time. And then when he gets bored of that he falls behind him and starts fitting his foot into Blaise's footprint.

He chuckles at how thin Blaise's feet seem to be.

"Having fun back there, Won-Won?"

Ron chokes on the cold air in surprise. "What did you just call me?"

"Won-Won," Blaise huffs out. His breathing is a little heavy from having to use more force since the snow is getting thicker, which means they're closer to the edge. "Isn't that what that little witch used to call you?"