Choose between Ron or Hermione
Verse 1: Stuck at Privet Drive
Scratching his chin, the man hummed: “You mean Weaselby from the-family-of-too-man- children and Grunge Granger? Those two? Why would I choose one of them? Almost got taken out by that duo when I refused to join Dumb-as-a-door.” Really, why would he even… Doesn’t make sense. “Um, but I guess… wait, what am I choosing them for exactly? Cause, damn, the Grunge Granger girl is pretty smoking and I’d like to kick Weaselby’s teeth in for this,” he grinned, pointing at one of the numerous scars on his face.
It was cruel, wasn’t it, to ask that of him, to make him choose between his two friends. But… Maybe, if he could just see Ron one more time, he’d apologize for not being able to save Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets. It was all his fault…
Verse 5: Delusions of Hogwarts
“That’s an awful thing to ask of me,” Harry grinned, green empty eyes looking up. “They’re both my best friends… but… um, I guess I’ve been around Ron a lot more than ‘Mione. And he’s certainly more fun. But ‘Mione still needs to help me with my Transfiguration essay,” he continued off, trailing from there with no clear answer. Really, he couldn’t choose… not that any one of the two was real.
“Hermione or Ron?” the boy asked, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side in thought. “Well, Ron’s loads o’ fun. But he’s always going on about me and my weird love for Potions as he puts it and about Quidditch. Hermione can at least understand why I like it, from an academic stand point anyway, but she can be a total bossy nag sometimes,” he sighed.
He had to stop though and return to the potion he was brewing, stirring counter clockwise seven times. “I guess I’ll choose Hermione? Ron’s great and all but I can’t stand to be around him all the time. This is, of course, all theoretical and they’re both still my friends, you know.”
“Ron! He’s a lot of fun and I like pulling pranks on him,” the young boy grinned, looking at the Marauder’s Map.
Verse 8: Little Strange One
“A Mudblood or a blood traitor?” Harry scoffed, looking at his fingernails more interested in them than with the topic of conversation. “I’d rather kiss Draco’s prat arse than choose one of them.”
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