Summer At The Burrow - Ron Weasley

5. A Morning Surprise

That morning, you awoke to a surprised gasp.

You jolted upwards to look towards the sound, promptly smacking your head against Ron's.

"Ow," you both mumbled, fully awake now. With the nose injury from last night, and this today, Ron was going to be covered in bruises by the time the summer was over. 

Your eyes settled upon a stunned looking Harry Potter standing in the doorway. His mouth was open, his eyes wide. Perhaps he wasn't expecting to walk into his best friend's room and see him cuddled up with a girl.

Words couldn't form in your mouth to explain the inappropriate situation. How could you explain how you looked right now- hair disheveled, under the covers, with Ron's arm still wrapped tightly around you. 

As Ron was about to speak, Harry's face broke out into a wide grin. Smirking he said, "well done, mate."

"Well done? Well done for what?" You heard a familiar voice say from the hallway. Within seconds, Hermione's head was peeking into the doorway.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up to her mouth in shock.

Harry chuckled as you heard even more footsteps approaching.

"What is it, Hermione?" you heard Ginny call before she, too, entered the small room, freezing when she saw you and Ron.

"Fred! George! Get in here!" she yelled, her lips forming into the same satisfied smile Harry wore.

"Oh please let's just invite the whole family," Ron said sarcastically. The room was already crowded with the 5 bodies in it, every eye strained upon you and Ron. But oddly enough, his arm was still wrapped protectively around your waist.

Soon, Fred and George apperated into the room, standing at the bottom of the bed.

"Would you look at that Georgie," Fred said, nudging his brother in the side. "I believe you owe me 5 galleons." George rolled his eyes, fumbling in his pocket before handing over the coins.

"You bet on us?" Ron asked. His face was growing red, but more from annoyance than embarrassment. 

The twins nodded at the same time.

You made eye contact with Ginny and Hermione, who were both grinning, their eyes sparkling. They knew you'd had a crush on Ron for years, and they mistakenly thought you had confessed to him, leading to the sleeping together situation. Terrified that they would say how you felt about him, when in reality you hadn't confessed anything at all, you spoke up. 

"It's not what it looks like," you mumbled, really wishing it was what it looked like. 

Ron glanced at you and then let his arm slip from your waist. You felt your body get colder as he moved away from you. 

"Nothing happened, like it ever would," Ron said, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm. You felt your heart drop as you processed his words.

"Like it ever would." Does that mean he didn't want anything to happen between you? 

"So you can give him your money back," Ron grumbled at Fred, getting out of bed and walking straight out the door. You heard his loud footsteps march downstairs to the kitchen. His angry attitude left an uncomfortable silence in the room.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

"I take it you didn't tell him then?" Hermione asked, sitting on the side of the bed and soothingly brushing your hair with her fingers.

"No, I didn't," you replied. 

"Tell him what?" Harry asked cluelessly.

Hermione and Ginny shared a look. "Boys," they muttered together, shaking their heads at Harry's oblivion.

The twins took it upon themselves to thoroughly explain the situation to Harry. 

"You see, our friend y/n here is in love with Ron. Has been for quite a while, we reckon. So when we see the two of them canoodling together in bed in the morning, one gets to thinking that maybe some confessions were made," Fred told him with a smug smirk. 

Keeping your head in your hands, you didn't look at Harry.  

"Well that's perfect!" Harry blurted out, "Ron feels the same way!"

Your head shot up and you stared at him.

"He does?" you asked him. Of course you knew that Ron treated you different from his other friends, but you never wanted to jump to conclusions.

"Well I mean, yeah. He's never outright said anything about it, but I can tell," Harry explained.

You groaned again, the swell of hope in your chest quickly dying down. No offense to Harry, but sometimes his intuition wasn't the best. You thought back to the countless times he was convinced Draco Malfoy had poisoned his morning pumpkin juice.

"I hate to break it to you lot, because you seemed quite excited barging in here this morning, but I'm positive he doesn't feel the same way. Did you hear him? 'Like it ever would.' That means he doesn't want anything to happen with us," you huffed.

Ginny shook her head.

"No, it means he's a stupid git who doesn't know how to say what he's feeling," she said confidently. 

You wanted to believe her. You really did. But if he felt the same way, he would've said something by now. Last night was the perfect opportunity, and he didn't tell you anything. That was all the confirmation you needed that your feelings were one-sided. 

Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you stood up. Although you felt your heart break slightly, you couldn't let this ruin your summer.

"Let's just forget this happened, okay?" You said, looking each of them in the eye. "Please don't mention it again, he's already pissed off enough."

Your friends nodded, but not without reluctance.

"Mum's making eggs this morning, then we could play a game of Quidditch in the backyard," Ginny offered. You thanked her silently for following your request.

"Sounds great, I brought my Firebolt," Harry said.

And with that, the crowd change the topic of conversation to Quidditch. Their chat continued as everyone made their way to the kitchen. 

Left alone upstairs, you changed out of your pajamas. You reached into your trunk to put on your favorite t-shirt. It was a vintage muggle band t-shirt that you used to listen to with your dad all the time, before travel got in the way and you barely saw him anymore. Ron, with the help of Mr. Weasley who knew the muggle world better than he did, searched high and low for this one specific shirt for your birthday last year. You loved the shirt and wore it all the time, Ron always was a great gift giver for you.

At the thought, you turned your attention to your new owl, who had just woken up. She was as adorable as when you first saw her. Friends get each other amazing gifts all the time, this doesn't mean he's in love with you, you tried to remind yourself.

"Good morning, Dite," you said, rubbing her tiny head. She pecked your fingers affectionately, before flying over to the bed, where she sat down on Ron's pillow.

"You saw all that, huh?" You asked. Even the owls saw your embarrassment from this morning.

She nodded her head and then fluttered over to the box of letters under his nightstand. She nudged the side of it with her beak.

"They don't mean anything," you told her. She didn't understand. No one did. Ron, despite your best wishes, wasn't in love with you. It was just a fact you needed to accept.

You cocked your head towards the door. "C'mon," you said to Dite. She flew onto your shoulder and nuzzled into your neck. 

"We have a Quidditch match to win."