Who: Miranda Dodderidge and Ralph Merridew
What: Ralph's got a surprise for Miranda :]
Where: Hogwarts!
When: Saturday afternoonish?
"So, tell me again," Miranda said softly. There wasn't anyone in the dorm, but with the curtains shut around them, she felt like whispering. And she didn't have much of a voice to begin with (which was probably a relief to many) so it wasn't as if she had much of a choice. It was the Hogsmeade weekend, and Miranda
had been excited about returning to Hogwarts just in time for it, but this morning she'd woken up absolutely exhausted, and had opted to stay inside the castle. Fortunately, she had the most amazing boyfriend in the
world, because Ralph stayed inside with her, and they were currently squished together on his bed, going over the three performances of Grease.
Honestly, even if she'd only seen him for like...a day, during these horrible weeks, it---ugh, she didn't know how to describe it. Her family had been more than wonderful, and she didn't want to put down their part in making her feel better, but thinking about getting better to see
Ralph, and hearing him tell her it was going to be okay, well---Miranda believed it more when Ralph said the positive things, because...well, Ralph wouldn't lie to her, not after everything.
"The car rolled out smoothly? It didn't brake funny like it had been?" Miranda shifted to lie on her side, obviously concerned, "On all three nights?"
Miranda really had no idea how truly relieved Ralph was now that she was back. And, you know, not dead. He had felt like he had been in a movie for the past few weeks with everything that had been happening. Grease, school, sending Miranda to Mungo's, leaving school to
go to Mungo's instead of going to rehearsals, actually performing Grease, and then going back and forth from the hospital to school for three long and chaotic days. But then finally, with the cinematic end, her fever
finally broke. Least to say it had felt like a roller coaster ride, and he wasn't even the one who had been sick. But now, Ralph could relax in the fact that his girlfriend was fine, maybe less energetic (for now, but fine), and he had no problem staying inside and doing nothing. Because honestly enough, he was sort of exhausted from life right about now.
"Yes," Ralph replied in the same tone, his back sliding just a bit further down the headboard to let his chin rest easier on top of Miranda's head. He thought for a moment, trying to distinctly remember each scene they used the car for every night. It took a while (everything seemed like one bright-lights, lots-of-make-up singing blur), but--- yes, the car had magically stopped being annoying on their opening night and had worked perfectly since then. Ralph suspected that someone had just charmed the stupid thing, but, he didn't really care.
"People 'oohhed' and 'ahhed' at it," he smiled.
Miranda smiled and let a quick breath out of her nose as her arm wrapped around Ralph's waist, pressing her face into his chest. She was trying, so very, very hard not to be depressed about missing the performances, but it seemed like it was all she could think about. She'd returned yesterday and all anyone could talk about was the show, she saw posters hanging up in the dorm and corridors, people were humming the music, and---she should be
proud that it had gone so well, but even though all three shows had gone off without a hitch, Miranda felt unaccomplished. Her daddy had said that a lot of directors refuse to see their own productions, because all they'd be able to pay attention to was the mistakes, but Miranda simply scoffed and cried that she was an
optimist and would be so very happy that they didn't fall through the stage, or something like that. She'd never been good at dealing with not getting what she wanted, and--augh. This fever had thrown all of her emotions out of whack.
"That's good," she muttered, frowning as tears filled her eyes. Oy, at least Ralph couldn't see her face just yet, she didn't want him to think she was being a baby for being upset. Ugh, her family kept telling her that being healthy and
alive was the important thing here, that she should be grateful, but if they hadn't had such good security at St. Mungo's, Miranda would have found her way back to Hogwarts right before the curtains went up. "Good. I'm glad."
Ralph loosely rested his hand on her side, listening intently as he could. Even though they weren't saying much to each other, he knew that he lack of words was saying something too. Come on, Miranda Dodderidge not being the one to talk? That said more than when she said a lot. If that made sense. It made sense in Ralph's head, and the point was that even though she hadn't exactly spelled out she was upset about missing Grease, he knew she was.
It took a few moments for him to realize that she was more upset about it now than before (alright, so maybe bringing up Grease wasn't the best of ideas), but once he did, Ralph went right into action. He slumped even further down the backboard to get closer to her, and his arm slunk to wrap around her waist. "Hey," he said quietly, sticking his chin to his chest to look at her. He opened his mouth to further speak, but-- what could he say that wouldn't make her more upset? 'Don't worry, it went really great even though you weren't there' or 'it wasn't
that good' or 'Are you okay, because I know how hard this is.' Yes, those ideas seemed real swell when it came to making his girlfriend feel better. So for a few moments, Ralph stayed quiet.
"Don't be upset," he said finally, mentally smacking himself for coming up with something so lame. Yes, because
that was going to help. For extra help, he laced his fingers with hers and gave it a quick squeeze.
Miranda was trying really,
really hard to not be upset, and she thought she was doing a good job, but that was before Ralph was looking her in the eyes and being all nice and sweet---his gentle actions that made her calm down, but all it managed to do was make her even more upset about...
being upset. Oh, bloody hell, Flitwick had told her, during one of the many rehearsals over the years, that trying
not to cry was the way to get tears to form, and Miranda definitely understood the theory now as her lips pressed together tightly. But, it was no use; tears escaped her eyes as she nodded at his words, and Miranda wasted no time in pressing herself to Ralph to cry.
It wasn't as if he hadn't dealt with her crying before, because even Miranda would admit she was more than overly emotional, but this time felt different. It wasn't about anger or something stupid---though, she kept telling herself she was stupid for being so upset. It was just making her so...so
sad, she was just
sad about not seeing her production brought to life, she was sad that she hadn't been there to help, she was sad that now her
brother was sick and---it---just---this virus made everything so bloody miserable!
"Sorry," she croaked, not bothering to move away from Ralph, sniffling greatly and pulling the collar of her shirt up and over her nose to try and hide her face.
Ugh, yeah, okay see-- today was not suppose to be about crying, and having Miranda feel
bad or upset. Today was suppose to be a good day, where she would feel happy about coming back at Hogwarts and seeing all her friends and... maybe it was time to go down to the Great Hall now. Knowing she would absolutely
murder him if she saw him doing this while she was crying (ugh, he could only imagine), Ralph slowly, while trying not to move his chest at all, brought his wrist up to his face to see what time it was. Only a few more minutes, they could even start heading down now. But--- he frowned deeply as Miranda pressed her face into his chest. He really didn't like it when she cried. And she most definitely would not want to leave the dormitory, let alone into the rest of the school all... still crying.
Okay. It was now officially a mission. Well, it always had been, but. Right. Anyway.
"I have an idea," he said quietly, his head turning to rest on his shoulder and look at her. His frown perked up into a small smile as she looked at him, and Ralph began to move into a sitting-up position. He let go of her hand and his arm unwrapped itself from around her waist. "It'll make you feel better, I swear," Ralph continued, nodding his head up and down as he reached to pull her shirt out of her hands. Yes, it was definitely time to go down now, everyone would be ready and they couldn't be
too late or else, well he didn't want to be. "C'mon." He felt a bit bad for not really acknowledging her current upset state, but. She would understand in the long run.
She sat up with a pout, sniffling all the while and wiping her face. Miranda didn't have any idea what Ralph would want to do to take her mind off things that didn't involve his bed, but...well. Okay. She really didn't have the energy to argue, and she
did want to feel better. Miranda pulled a face, slouched in the middle of the bed as she watched her boyfriend move, and she opened her mouth to ask him
what exactly he had planned, but then decided whatever it was, it was going to be better than lying here crying, so it was would be beneficial to herself not to annoy Ralph with a bunch of stupid, whiny questions.
"Ergh---fine, hold on," she muttered, slipping off the bed to run into the bathroom. There was probably no one worth caring about in Hogwarts (second and first years didn't count to Miranda, just as traffic in the corridors), but she still looked like a raccoon with her red eyes and mussed up hair. Quickly, she tied her hair up and wet her face, grabbing one of Ralph's jumpers out of his dresser and tugging it on before meeting him at the door of the dorm, looking expectant.
Ralph smiled, impressed how easily (and fast) Miranda had complied to his seemingly random idea. Not that it mattered at all, in fact, he was pleased that this transition had gone virtually painless, which was always favorable; he had never been good with lying, especially to her. Or maybe she was just extremely good of telling when he was lying.... no, he was just very bad at lying. It was like a huge sign appeared on his forehead every time he began to fib, saying 'Look! He's lying!' or something like that. It was pretty bad. Anyway.
"Ready? Okay," he said, and without waiting for an answer, Ralph grabbed onto Miranda's hand to lead her down the steps and out of the tower completely. The corridors were rather empty, which was also good, because then no one would come up to them asking if there actually
would be another showing of Grease happening today, which would just---- ruin anything. No human interference; they had kept it relatively down-low for the past week (which was amazing for Hogwarts gossip) Ralph didn't think that Miranda had a clue about what was about to happen (and what happened in the dorm only reaffirmed his beliefs that this would be a very big surprise).
Just as planned, the Great Hall doors were closed once they finally got there. Still smiling, Ralph turned to Miranda and dropped her hand. "Ladies first," he joked, bowing slightly and sticking a hand out toward the door. Alright, now he definitely felt his heart bounding in his ears, and he knew what was about to happen.
She smiled tightly, producing a fake curtsy with the end of Ralph's giant jumper. Ugh, Miranda loved stealing his shirts. Because---he was so much taller, so they just were so big and comfy and smelled like him and it was nice to curl up in your boyfriend's shirt or jumper or even wear his tie (even though like, they were all Gryffindor colored but
still. It was Ralph's). It seemed like the stereotypical good girlfriend thing to do, but Miranda didn't care. She didn't care that her hands didn't poke through the end or that she had to roll up the sleeves to do anything, just the simple fact that people knew she was wearing Ralph's clothing was a good enough reason to do it, annnnd she loved it, just like she loved him and
sigh why were they going to the Great
Hall, all they were going to do was---
"Oh my
God," she let out, hands going to cover her mouth as her eyes laid sight on the fully lit stage of the Great Hall---
her stage, Grease's stage! All set up and--
oh they were---starting, the---opening---se...quence, she couldn't breathe. Her mind had completely gone blank and she turned and hurled herself at Ralph because of
course he knew what was going on, he'd bloody--
brought her here and---oh, oh, she had the best boyfriend in the whole bloody world, no one could ever beat her in an argument about that because Ralph Jackson Merridew was absolutely perfect and amazing and Miranda couldn't kiss him hard enough---except kept pulling back to look at the stage, just to go back to kissing him and finally, when she realized he needed to run backstage because Kenickie was supposed to come up soon and he wasn't even in
costume, Miranda's hands went to the back of his head to pull Ralph down close and tight, noses pressing hard together.
"Thank you so much," she managed, because now she was getting emotional again, but the tears were very, very happy tears. "Get---get to your spot."
