Poisoned Flowers - Ron Weasley x OC

Chapter 5

Days had passed since you'd last seen Draco, and you felt almost sad about this. Almost. Still, the week had proven to be better than expected. You and Luna had become just the tiniest bit closer, and it was the best feeling you'd ever experienced. A real friend. She was so very sweet and always had your best interest, as you did hers. 

That morning you and Luna made your way to the Great Hall. Together you sat, secluded from the judgemental eyes of the rest of your house. You would make some of the small food float using your fingers and form them into special shapes. It made her laugh. For a few hours afterwards you finished your essay and studied in the library, Luna by your side.

After a while, you parted ways and made your way up to the divination tower. You were definitely out of shape. As you arrived you noticed a line forming at the front of the room, and made your way towards it, falling into place. Professor Trelawney, a rather bizarre-looking woman with glasses that magnified her eyes, begun to pair people off. After a few minutes had passed, your turn came. She saw you to an empty table, where you waited for a partner. You filled the time, tugging at the ends of your hair. Hopefully, they won't hate you.

You must've jinxed yourself, because that's exactly how they felt.

Why did it have to be Ron.

He groaned as he sat across from you, glancing back at Harry with a longing look. Harry shrugged and looked at you with a small smile out of courtesy. You returned it, then looked to Ron with a sigh. He was scratching at the peeling stain, avoiding your gaze.

"Good morning, my children," came Trelawney's airy voice. Her excessive amounts of jewelry clinked. "Today, as to celebrate the start of a new year, we will be doing palm fortunes."

Some people looked excited while others, like Ron, seemed downright miserable.

"This class is useless," he mumbled. You agreed. Divination never really was your strong suit.

"Everyone use a small amount of Grindilow Oil on your palms. Have your partner massage it in. One at a time, please," said Trelawney.

"I'll read yours first," you offered. You lifted your hand, which opened your book to the palm fortune page. Ron seemed slightly confused at this. It wasn't entirely common for those with magical blood to have special abilities, but it definitely wasn't unheard of.  He held his arm out reluctantly. "Oh! Left arm please!" you said gently, trying your best to show him that you were not evil. "The left palm focuses on short term circumstances," you explained. He switched hands.

You dipped your right ring finger in the oil, which was very warm. Your finger seemed to buzz at the contact. In your left, you held his hand, palm facing upwards. It was huge in comparison. He had a depressing look upon his face, soft blonde eyelashes glowing in the light. You pushed the sleeve of his robes up tenderly, revealing a rather strong forearm. It was very warm compared to your cold fingertips, and it left you with a pleasant sensation.

You gently rubbed the drop into his hand, massaging it with your thumbs. Grindilow Oil was thought to make the readings more effective. Ron tensed, and you looked up into his eyes. They were looking back down into your own. You smiled smally, then looked back down, smoothing your thumbs across the surface of his palm until the oil had been spread thin.

"It tingles," he said quietly, looking at it.

"Yeah. It'll do that," you answered. He said nothing.

You scanned his hand for creases, finding them with little difficulty and looking up their meanings in the book at your side. You took notes on your parchment, flicking your finger rather than greasing your quill. After a few minutes, you'd formulated a summary.