Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 13/11/2008
Last Updated: 28/02/2009
Status: Completed
Harry was just told about the Yule Ball and his mandatory participance. He sits down and thinks about his choices, his disgusts, and then comes to the obvious decision. http://www.RihaansFics.com
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't really own anything, for that matter. What am I doing with my life?!
Professor McGonagall called above the noise, “Potter—a word, if you please.”
Assuming this had something to do with his headless rubber haddock, Harry walked gloomily to the teacher’s desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class left, and then said, “Potter, the champions and their partners—”
“Partners?” Harry asked curiously.
McGonagall looked at him suspiciously, as if he were messing with her. “The Yule Ball, Potter. Your date.”
Fear immediately overcame him. ‘Date?!’ “But I don’t dance,” he said quickly, feeling as if a Dementor had him pinned.
“You will have to,” McGonagall said sternly, “for it is a tradition for the champions. You are to open the dance with the other three champions with your date. No excuses, and have someone to teach you how to dance before the ball. You most likely won’t have to worry about finding a date to the ball.” She said in a ‘That is Final’ tone.
Harry nodded grimly and walked out of the classroom, wondering who to ask to the dance. The first person he thought about was Cho Chang. He thought if he should wait or just get it over with, so he could spend the rest of his time learning how to dance. After a few seconds of thinking, a voice was sounding in his head.
‘Just get it over with. It may help you in the future. You should use the map to find out where she is.’
He eventually decided he should just get this over with. He pulled out a blank parchment and his wand. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” He said nervously.
He watched as the parchment slowly filled up with a map of Hogwarts and looked over it, looking for her. He saw Hermione in the library reading at her familiar table. He smiled at the thought of her frantically searching for the biggest book on the shelves to absorb information from. He then started looking for a certain Ravenclaw…only to find her with a certain Hogwarts Champion. He saw them walking together in the hallways. Now that he thought about it, he had seen Cedric and Cho a lot together recently. Whether he was carrying her books, chatting and laughing together, holding hands…
And then it hit him. Cho and Cedric were dating.
He was crushed. He didn’t know what to do. He liked Cho. He didn’t know Cedric did, too. Apparently Cedric got to her first, and Harry was left without a date.
With his head down, he trudged on to his dormitory.
When he came back to his room, he quickly sat on the edge of his bed to think. The first thing he thought of was that he was glad that he listened to his conscience and didn’t wait until the day before. It had saved him a lot of time. But then the negative thought came. He didn’t have a date.
He knew that it wasn’t the biggest of his worries; he was almost positive that almost any girl in his year would ask him out if the girls could; they would most likely say yes if he asked one of them out. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He knew that he didn’t want a partner who would run around the entire castle screaming to the top of her lungs that the Harry Potter is going to be her date to the ball. His stomach twisted at the thought.
‘Then who?’ His voice asked him.
Harry furrowed his brow for a moment before thinking of the necessary qualities that came up in his mind for his ideal partner.
Pretty, smart, funny, won’t stare at his scar during the whole Ball, won’t scream to the heavens that Harry asked her out, has a few things in common with him, able to talk to him without giggling madly (or put their elbow in a butterdish like a certain ten-year-old redhead), who knows him well and looks at him as a regular wizard (that decreased the list of girls by a lot), actually believed him when his name came out of the goblet, and possibly…can help him dance.
He started thinking of the notoriously short list in his mind that had at least a few of these qualities. Right off the bat, he mentally scratched Ginny off the list, as she would definitely think that they were going as more than friends. Besides, he noticed that Neville gave her a nervous glance every now and then.
He then thought of Parvati or Lavender. They were both pretty, both smart, both believed him, but according to the class that he had some five minutes ago, they would most likely giggle madly and boast about who’s going to the ball with them. Both were mentally scratched off.
Harry realized that there was one more person on the list, and he had to scratch that name off. He then sighed. He might have to ask one of his fangirls…
‘Why?’ asked the familiar voice.
‘Er, because I need a date.’
‘I mean why did you scratch off that name?’
‘Oh, because she’s my friend,’ Harry’s thoughts conversed with his conscience.
‘You’re going to scratch off her name because she’s your friend?’
‘Well…er…’
‘Is she pretty?’
‘Yeah, but—’
‘Is she smart?’
‘The smartest, but—’
‘Did she believe you when your name was taken out of the goblet?’
‘She was the main one,’ Harry said, understanding the voice’s point.
‘Does she giggle when you talk to her?’
‘No.’
‘Do you think that she would yell at the whole school that you asked her to the ball?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Then why do you think of her as only your friend?’
Harry did not have a reply for that. It did make sense. He started picturing her in a different way. He noticed how pretty she was in his mind. She was pretty. He couldn’t believe that he’d never seen her that way before. Now that he had, it was pretty hard to miss. The way she bites her lower lip and puts her index finger on her chin when she’s thinking about something…the way she twirls her finger around her bushy hair whenever a particularly hard question comes up on a test…The way she nibbles on the feather of her quill when she is frustrated about her not knowing an answer quickly enough…
Then the thought struck him. He likes Hermione Granger. As more than a friend.
But…how? This was Hermione, Harry’s best friend, one of the guys. Okay, she is a girl, and a very pretty girl at that, but…
Harry had no retort.
‘Tell me again,’ the amused voice said, and Harry thought it was starting to get annoying. ‘Why won’t you ask her to the ball?’
‘What if it ruins our relationship? I saw Ron staring at her a few times. Maybe I should just—’
‘Make a choice?’ The voice interrupted. ‘Who would you choose? Ron’s hormonal problems or a great time at the Ball, possibly with the girl of your dreams?’
‘I…’ Harry started, already knowing which answer he would choose, but not willing to admit it himself, ‘I don’t want to choose.’
‘But you must! You know it is Hermione. Why did she stick by you and believed you when you told her you didn’t put your name in the cup?’
‘That’s only because she’s my best friend.’
‘And why did Ron not believe you?’
‘Well…that’s only because—’
‘—Because he’s your best friend, right?’ The conscience said in a mock accent.
‘What if she doesn’t like me back?’
‘What if she does? Are you going to take that risk?’
Harry thought long and hard about what his conscience said. He surely didn’t want to lose her friendship, why would he try to make it something more? Their entire friendship, three and a half years in the making, could collapse in one, stupid question.
‘Why don’t you ask her as a friend?’
‘I don’t want to do that. It just won’t feel right for me to go with her as friends.’
‘Just ask her to go to the ball with you. She’ll decide on her own if she wants to go as friends or more.’
Harry sighed. He had nothing to lose, and she wouldn’t break her friendship with him for asking her to the ball. He knew their relationship was much stronger than that. He knew what he had to do. He knew who he chose. He stood up from his bed and slowly walked out of the dorm, still holding the activated map.
He didn’t have to walk far, for when he was about to look at the map again, he noticed a brown and bushy-haired witch in her favorite chair in the corner of the Common Room reading a book in one hand and writing on parchment with the other. The Common Room was empty. ‘Thank goodness,’ he said as he whispered the map’s deactivation and put the once again blank parchment in his pocket. He slowly walked down the rest of the stairs and walked over to her. She looked up as he was walking towards and smiled a little, causing Harry’s stomach to do funny things. He returned the smile and looked at the parchment as he sat down next to her.
“How many weeks ahead are you in you work, now?” Harry asked with a grin.
“Oh, just a few,” Hermione said, not noticing that Harry was joking. She realized a second later and tapped him on the back of his head with her book.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Harry laughed as he rubbed his head. “I thought you were in the library a few minutes ago.”
“I was, but I saw Mr. Krum looking at me strangely. It’s kind of creepy, really.”
“What’s a guy like Krum doing in the library?” Harry asked.
“I’m not sure,” Hermione said, putting her quill in her inkwell and leaning back to read the book while listening to Harry.
Harry inaudibly gulped. “Do you think…that he’s trying to…you know…ask you to the ball?” he asked, his throat getting drier with each word.
Hermione didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t think so. I mean, Krum has half the girl population belonging to him, while the other half are to you. Why would Krum want to ask me to the ball, of all people?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Harry asked curiously.
“Because, well, he’s a popular Quidditch player. Girls line up to ask him to the ball, some actually asking to marry him. And he looks like the type who will lead you to a broom closet after the ball. And I don’t ever want to picture myself with Krum in that image. I don’t even know the guy.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully. “So you want a guy that you’ve known for a while to ask you to the ball?” He asked, trying to take the hopefulness out of his voice.
“Well, I don’t know that many guys,” She said with a resigned sigh as she looked back down at her book, her long brown hair covering her face. “All I know well is you and Ron. Ron’s been a prat so far this year, and now he’s begging Fleur to go with him, which I’m sure is not going to happen anytime soon, and you’re going to ask Cho to the Ball, no doubt…” Her voice broke off quietly and sniffed a little, and she half-hoped that Harry didn’t notice. The other half was in luck, for he did.
“So…if I asked you…right now…if you would, er, you know, go to the ball with me…would you say yes?”
Hermione’s heart stopped for a full two seconds before beating rapidly. She dropped her quill on her parchment, and smiled brilliantly. Harry could not see her reaction, but he swore he heard a small gasp… of surprise? Hermione decided to slow her breathing by meditating so Harry could not figure out the reaction by hearing her hyperventilate.
Trying to act normal, she looked up into his eyes after a moment with a bright blush and said, “You’ll have to ask to find out.”
Harry took a deep breath, his heart pounding. This is it. The moment he asks her, their relationship as friends would completely change and Ron would become mad at him the moment he finds out. Before he opened his mouth, a wave of calmness swept over him, and he realized that he shouldn’t feel nervous anymore. She pretty much asked him would he ask her, and that bolstered his spirit a bit. He almost smoothly asked, “Would you go to the ball with me, Hermione?”
Hermione’s smile went wider and her face went a little pinker, and Harry found that unbearably cute. “I’d love to go to the ball with you, Harry…but what about Cho?” She hesitantly asked. “Did she say no?”
“I didn’t ask her,” Harry easily said, grinning like mad, “and now I don’t plan on asking her.”
Hermione’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “Why did you ask me first and not her?”
“Alas, I do not know,” Harry said in a slightly raspy voice, mimicking a certain Headmaster. “It is one of life’s little mysteries we may never know about, such as why some pretty girls weren’t asked to the ball such as yourself, Miss Granger.”
Hermione’s smile faltered. “Harry, first of all, today’s the first day the Ball was announced. Second, I’m not really known as one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts. They all expect me to be in the library during the ball. I’ll even bet that boys will start to ask me to the Ball the day before in desperation.” She sighed and looked back at Harry, who was frowning. “What?” She asked with a frown to match. Was he having second thoughts about taking her to the Ball? ‘Bloody Hell, Granger, you’ve almost had Harry and you lost him just as quickly with your big bloody mouth!’
“Why do you say that about yourself?” Harry asked.
“Because it’s the truth,” Hermione said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Might as well just get this over with now…’ She took a deep breath. “Look, Harry, I understand if you want to take someone else, I mean, I wouldn’t blame—”
“Hermione, stop,” Harry interrupted, having enough of this. “I will never have second thoughts about asking you to the Ball, and the only thing that I’m not looking forward to at the Ball is me dancing…which I can’t do. The only thing that I’m worried is that you’ll regret it when your feet are in pain.”
Hermione blinked a few times, searching for the truth in him. She could always see it in those emerald orbs. He was telling the truth. She finally spoke. “Harry, I would never regret going to the ball with you, and I’ll make sure you fix the dancing problem. I could teach you after each ‘training session’. But why were you frowning?”
Harry sighed in relief, and then looked serious. “Because I don’t think you’re right.”
“Not right about what?”
“About you not being pretty.”
Hermione laughed a dry, humorless laugh that made Harry sick. “Harry, I think you need your glasses checked.”
Harry smirked and pulled off his glasses. “I think you’re pretty,” He said. Even with his blurry vision, he could still see Hermione’s face and the pink on her cheeks. He put back on his glasses and looked at her. “Still pretty, and I can see a hundred percent clearly. Have to be to win Quidditch and out-fly a dragon,” he said. Hermione’s face was almost at full bloom, and Harry had the powerful urge to kiss her on the spot. He relented, and narrowed his eyes at her. His face came closer to hers, until their noses were separated by mere inches.
Hermione started breathing heavily. She had never been this close to a boy before. He was invading her personal space…and she really didn’t give a damn. This was Harry, her best friend, her crush for a year and a half, inches away from her lips. She knew he wouldn’t try anything on her, but honestly, she wished he did.
Harry smirked at her after staring at her for a few seconds. “No. No ugly anywhere.” She blushed a bit more, but she was determined on making Harry see the truth.
“But, my hair, it’s—”
“It’s very unmanageable. It will take the most expensive stuff in the world for it to act right for only a few hours. Remind you of anyone?” He said with a cheeky grin.
Hermione had to admit that he had a point, as he had a raven bush on his head. “But, my teeth—” she stopped herself from saying the rest. Her teeth were fixed, so they weren’t a problem anymore.
Harry, seeming to read her mind, said “Your teeth were never a problem to begin with. I thought that they were cute.” He then pondered for a moment as he scooted back, unaware of the small sigh of disappointment from Hermione. In his mind, it seemed that she was trying to make up excuses of why she shouldn’t go to the ball with him. “You know, you’ve been thinking of excuses for me to not take you to the ball or make me change my mind. What’s wrong?”
She gave another resigned sigh and placed her book on the floor, not bothering to bookmark the page. She looked back at Harry and said, “Harry… look, I’m not trying to change your mind, honestly, I’m not. And I’m really, really glad that you’d ask me to the ball. It’s just that… well, you’re the savior of the Wizarding world, and—” she raised her hand before Harry could interrupt, “Even if you didn’t want to be, you still are, Harry. It’s just that with all that stuff from the Daily Prophet. What do you think they’ll say if they found out you’re taking me to the ball?”
Harry just shrugged. “Since when did the Bloody Prophet control my life? I really don’t read it anymore. It’s just toilet paper. Sure I’ll use it once in a while, but only to wipe my—”
“Harry!” Hermione said, laughing. “I hope you were going to say ‘nose’.
Harry pretended to be in deep thought before he said, “sure, let’s go with that.” He then turned serious. “Okay, but honestly, I really don’t care. I can take anyone to the ball I want, I can date anyone I want, I can—”
“Date?” She asked, her eyebrows raised.
“Oh, umm,” He started with a sheepish grin, “well, technically this is a date, isn’t it? I mean, do you want it to be…?” He waved his hand around, as if letting it linger in the air.
Hermione’s eyes widened at this. ‘Is he really asking…?’ “I- I don’t know,” she said nervously. Part of her thought that if she was nervously talking, Harry might think she would be thinking that the whole thing was uncomfortable. Tentatively, she scooted closer to him. “Do you want it to be… you know…?” She waved her hand in the air as he did.
Harry put his head down to unsuccessfully hide his blush. “Well…honestly...yeah.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling.
They sat there for a while, thinking. Hermione, thinking of the beautiful thing she had just heard, and Harry, thinking of what he just said. Finally, Hermione spoke.
“So, are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend, or are we just going to be platonic friends in denial?”
Harry, shocked, shot his head up to see Hermione smiling. “Are you really asking me to ask you to be my girlfriend?”
Hermione toned her smile down to a playful grin and said, “Well, I could just go back to the library and see if Mr. Krum—”
“Alright, alright,” Harry said, smiling as brightly as Hermione did moments before. He then cleared his voice and tried to sound official. “Hermione, Granger, would you like to be the girlfriend of one Harry Potter?”
Hermione laughed again, this time out of sheer joy. It was like the sound of a Phoenix to Harry. “Hermione Granger accepts, and Harry Potter must make this official within the next ten seconds.”
Harry smiled even brighter, if possible. He moved closer to her once again, this time moving closer than before. Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed and leaned in the remaining distance.
Their lips touched.
-
A few minutes later, they broke apart. They were slightly dazed, but they were completely aware of what just happened. They were amazed that no one had walked into the Common Room yet. “You,” Hermione stuttered, “are a much better kisser than I thought.”
Harry came back to reality and grinned. “Are you telling me that you thought of how good of a kisser I am before?”
Hermione looked away and said, “Well…yes. I mean what girl hasn’t?”
“Slytherin girls?”
She scoffed. “Yeah, right. They started making a Harem for you, third years and up.”
Harry looked at her incredulously for a few seconds, then waggled his eyebrows. “And how would you know that, Miss Granger?”
Just when her face was fading from her tomato red, it came back full-force. “They have meetings in Madame Puddifoot’s.”
“How many meetings have you attended?” He asked, trying to sound stern, but the grin failed it.
Hermione went scarlet. She really shouldn’t have said anything. “I…er…only purebloods can enter it.”
“Something I should look for and hide from then, huh?”
“Yes, I imagine so. Harry?”
“Yes, ‘Mione?”
“Should we tell Ron, or anyone, about…you know…us?”
Harry thought about this for a few seconds before slowly nodding. “Well, I think we should. I don’t want to keep it a secret. Do you?”
“Well, not particularly. But you do realize that not only every girl in the school is going to try at least one curse – not hex, but curse – on me. And Rita will probably claim that I gave you a love potion. I swear I’ll find her if it’s the last thing I’ll bloody—”
“You know, Hermione,” Harry tried to calm his girlfriend as he once again pulled out the blank parchment, “We could just look for her name. For once I could use the Boy-Who-Lived image to threaten her. I mean, I just faced a dragon. I didn’t battle it, but she doesn’t know what I can do with a wand. And if anyone tries to hex you…let’s just say Madame Pomfrey’s gonna have more company than just me this year.”
Hermione giggled and kissed him on the cheek. “Normally, I would tell you not to, but I’m in too happy a mood at the moment.”
“And I would be too happy to argue back,” He said as he pecked her on the lips and sat back on the couch, Hermione scooting closer to him and snuggled in. Harry put his arm around her and put his map in his lap, while Hermione put her head on his shoulder. She wished she could stay like that forever.
“Should we tell Ron first?” Harry asked as he looked over the map at all of the names.
Hermione nodded, even though Harry couldn’t see. “Of course we should. He’s our best friend.”
“Yeah, but…”
“What?” She asked with concern and curiosity.
“Well… I um, think he fancies you.”
Hermione was silent for a long moment, and Harry was starting to get worried. He finally turned his head to her to see that she was in tears. He was even more worried than before, now. ‘What if she liked Ron? What if she decided to go with me to make him jealous? What if—?’ He stopped his panicking questions as he took a closer look at her face. Those weren’t tears. It was mirth. She was biting her lip. Hermione was trying not to laugh.
“‘Mione?” He asked curiously. This apparently set her off the edge, as she burst into a fit of giggles. Apparently, she thought that the whole thought of Ron fancying her was rather comical. Harry was relieved and sad at the same time. Hermione obviously didn’t like Ron, but Ron…
“H- Harry…” She stuttered through her laughs, “…are you out of your mind?”
“Umm…no?”
Hermione stopped laughing and looked at Harry’s completely confused and concerned face. He wasn’t having her on. After regaining her composure and wiping the mirth from her eyes, she softly said, “A-are you sure?”
“Well…he has been looking at you lately.”
“Oh, well it’s probably hormones. Should we wait until he finds a partner for us to tell him?”
“No. He’ll probably feel even more betrayed. I think we should tell him at least that I asked you to the ball. We’ll just say that we became a couple during the Ball. Might have to visit a broom cupboard afterwards for an alibi,” Harry smirked.
“Harry!” Hermione said with a indignant look, “I just said that Viktor would most likely take his date into a broom closet.”
“But you said you didn’t know the guy,” he said with a grin. “And this school has a lot of broom closets, I’m sure we won’t open the door on him.”
Hermione smirked and shook her head. “You are truly incorrigible, Harry Potter.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Before they could say anything else, the portrait opened and they grudgingly split apart. “Um, so,” Hermione said as a group of younger Gryffindor girls walked in, “did you figure out the egg yet? We could try to figure it out while I teach you to dance.”
“Among other things,” Harry added in a whisper. Hermione blushed and chuckled.
“Yes, among other things.”
N/A: Why did I even think of this...
Be aware of Ron bashing in future chapters. If you can handle them, then go to either my website, http://rihaansfics.webs.com, or my Fanfiction account to read it. Note: there is a harem in future chapters, but I only meant it as a joke. They will be bodyguards for Harry in the future, and only Hermione will have him the entire story…
Until an unplanned sequel comes out of this. If you guys dub this as purely HHr, I will put up the rest of the chapters. But this might be too controversial.
You might find something else at my website that you haven’t seen before…if you look hard enough…
Warning: If you thought you had seen Ron bashing before…*shudders* Please don't hate me when you read Ron's views of everything. I was disgusted with myself when I read it over.
For the rest of the story, go to http://RihaansFics.webs.com/TYBR. Some people just don't read. `Can't wait to read the next chapter,' `when are you gonna update…' I did update, the story is finished, and you can read all SIX chapters at my site. Just make sure you review there, please.
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Chapter 2 - Tell Him and Duck! - The Yule Ball: The Remake
“I really hate Hogwarts.”
“Ron, you've been saying that for the last hour. Can I at least do my homework in peace?”
“Why are you so bloody calm? You have to ask somebody to the Ball! You have to dance! And people will be looking at you, since you're the Boy Who Lived and a Triwizard Champion!”
“I have to do the opening dance with the other champions, too.”
“You have to do what?”
“I lead my date into the ballroom, well, the Great Hall, and dance in front of everyone along with the other three champions and their dates.”
“You know, sometimes it kinda almost sucks to be you.”
“It has its good moments.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing, Ron. Can I do my homework in peace now?”
“Not until you tell me how you could be so calm about this? I mean, I know that you of all people wouldn't have to worry about a date, but dancing? With a girl?”
“Well, it's certainly a lot better than dancing with a boy…”
“You know that's not what I meant! It's just… girls won't ask you to take them to the Ball. You have to ask them. And they travel in packs! It's impossible!”
“Hey, we're Gryffindor Lions. We chase down a pack, and leave with one, satisfied.”
“Harry…you're bonkers, mate.”
“I get that a few times. Remember First Task?”
“Yeah, who could forget? Which reminds me, did you figure out the egg?”
“Nope. Just screaming. Very loud and painful screaming.”
“Well, there one thing that it won't help you with.”
“What's that?”
“Getting a date for the ball.”
“…………………well……”
“Bloo-dy Hell… Don't tell me…don't tell me you've already got a date!”
“Okay.”
“I didn't mean it literally! Tell me if you got a date!”
“You should say what you mean.”
Harry ran his hand through his raven locks once again. Should he tell Ron? Should he risk his friendship on this? Of course, he would still go to the Ball with Hermione whether Ron was okay with it or not, that was for certain. And he also realized that Ron would've been angrier if he waited until he and Hermione walked down the steps to the Ball and told him then. He had a feeling that it would not go down well.
But still, he had to at least ask who he was planning on asking. “So…who do you plan on asking to the ball?”
Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, but then got a dreamy expression on his face. “I think I'm gonna ask Fleur…”
“Is that all?” Harry asked, trying to mask the hopefulness, but failing miserably.
Ron didn't notice, thankfully. “We can have more than one date?” He asked stupidly.
Harry sighed tiredly. “No, Ron, you can't have more than one date. I mean what if she already has a date?” He refrained from saying, `What if she rejects you?'
Ron thought for a moment. “Well, I guess I could have a back-up,” he spoke to himself. “Lavender? Parvati? Padma? Hell, both of the twins? It doesn't matter. All I know is that we have to have the best looking dates at the ball. Who are you—?”
“Wait a second,” Harry interrupted, trying to put curiosity over his rising panic. “Wh are all the girls you consider taking?”
“Umm…well, there's Fleur and the rest of the Beauxbaton Girls… there's Katie… there's Angelina, although I think she's going with Fred… there's Cho, but since you're taking her to the ball…”
“I'm not,” Harry said with a small smile.
“You're not?” Ron asked curiously. When Harry didn't reply, Ron continued. “Well, yeah, there's Cho… there's Marrietta…”
“Ron,” Harry said tiredly, “what about those in our year?”
“Oh, um, Hannah… Susan… Padma… Parvarti… Lavender… right cracking arse on that one, by the way… and Daphne, to be honest.”
“A Slytherin?” Harry asked. Ron's hatred for the Slytherin population is legendary.
“Well, I'm not going to ask her to the Ball, but… she's hot!”
“Is that all?” Harry asked.
“Well…” he thought for a long moment, making Harry almost groan out loud in frustration, “… yeah… yeah, I think that's it. So, what about you?”
Harry seemed to be thinking, but inwardly he wanted to curse Ron for not even thinking of Hermione. He now had no regrets. “Pretty much everyone that you mentioned…and Hermione,” He said in a monotone.
There was silence, and for a moment, Harry thought Ron was going to explode. He took his chance to look at Ron. He was looking at him strangely, no signs of jealousy at all.
Harry took that as a good sign.
“Why?” Ron said in a slightly confused voice.
“Because… she's pretty.”
“Hermione Granger, right?”
“If you can think of any other Hermione's…and I'm pretty sure the one in Shakespeare is dead now…so yes…what, you disagree?”
“Well… I don't know. She's not `up there', but…”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, masking his rising anger.
“What? I'm just saying that if all of those girls that I said before reject me, including Daphne, then, maybe, I would—”
“Go to the Ball alone?” Harry said suggestively.
“That may be an option,” Ron muttered to himself, only feeding Harry's anger. “But I probably won't have to if I ask Hermione.”
“Don't you mean if Hermione wants to go to the ball with you?”
Ron now looked thoroughly confused for a moment, before realization dawned. “You're right, she might want to the library and miss the Ball.”
Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously at Ron, who once again, didn't notice. “No, Ron, I mean what if she already has a partner?”
Ron scoffed. “What poor bloke would want to take her to the Ball?”
Harry thought that if he could narrow his eyes even more, he wouldn't be able to see. Ron honestly thought of Hermione as unattractive. Not only would Harry not feel sorry for saying this next word, but he would take more pride than he already had when he said it. “Me.”
Ron's initial confusion completely and immediately disappeared when the word sunk in. His ears, tinged into an alarming shade of red, followed by his cheeks, then his face. Harry was fingering his wand in his pocket, discreetly. He knew that at any moment, Ron might attack him, so he looked around for Ron's wand. It was on his headstand, a few feet away from the red-head. Ron finally spoke.
“You would go to the Ball with her.” He said, surprisingly calm.
“Yes,” Harry said smoothly. He knew that Ron wasn't really a threat. He could take him on easily thanks to the training that Hermione put him through for the tournament. If he was honest to himself, he could've easily taken him on the year before.
“So name the first ten people before her, then.”
“What do you mean,” Harry asked warily, still fingering his wand in his robe pocket.
“I mean, who are you going to ask first?”
“Uhh…I thought I just said that.”
“Oh. So every girl that I said, then Hermione?” It sounded like more of a statement or command than a question.
“No…” Harry said slowly, wanting to rib him a bit, “Hermione and every girl you said.”
“I just said that, didn't I? Hermione and every girl I said.”
“I meant in that order.”
“Oh…so who are you going to ask first? Parvati, Lavender, Cho—?”
“Ron!” Harry yelled, frustrated. It seemed as if Ron was ribbing him even more. “I am going to ask Hermione to the Ball first! If she doesn't, then I'll ask someone else, simple as that.”
“Why would you wanna do that?” He asked incredulously. “Look, I know you're probably afraid of asking a girl to the ball with you, and that you should practice asking Hermione, but, while fun, you shouldn't make her think that—”
“That I want to go to the ball with her?” Harry asked. “Well I do, and I am going to the Ball with her.” Harry did not mean to say that last part. He hoped Ron didn't notice.
There was quiet for a few seconds before Ron asked in an uneasy voice, “Why?”
Harry sighed; Ron's so thick-headed, it's a miracle he's in fourth year. He then realized that it was (no doubt in his mind) thanks to Hermione. “Because I really like her and I don't really want to go to the Ball with anyone else.”
There was quiet for another few seconds, and Harry was getting frustrated. He briefly wondered if that rumor was true about awkward silences…
“You're going to ask her to the Ball?” Ron asked with a tone Harry couldn't decipher. Harry figured that he had heard him when he slipped, but tried no to hear it.
“I already asked her to the Ball… and she said yes.”
“When?” Ron said in a slightly gruff voice, as if trying to accept what he was hearing.
“Today. About half an hour after Professor McGonagall told us.”
The room was in another silence. Harry was stuck wondering what kind of spell he should use. He had decided on a simple disarming spell when Ron stood up from his bed. At first Harry thought he was going to get attacked, so he slipped his wand out of his pocket. Just as `Expelliarmus' was on the tip of his tongue, Ron twirled around and stepped out of the room with a passive expression on his face, although his ears were still red. He didn't give Harry a second glance.
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Ron ran downstairs to the Common Room and dropped unceremoniously on the sofa. It was late at night, so there were only few people in the Common Room. He didn't look at them or pay any mind. He had other problems on his mind.
His mind was spinning with what Harry had just told him. Harry liked Hermione—as a friend or more, Ron did not understand.
But he didn't really care. Harry was going to the Ball with Hermione, and he didn't even give him the chance. The prat. He could've chosen any girl in the Wizarding World, from thirteen to fifty-seven years old. Although he would rather have Harry with Ginny (seeing as how he was rich and would bring his own family out of poverty and shame), he didn't care. As long as he had Hermione, he would be happy. Even if he had her for a moment.
Which was his plan, in fact.
It was a very simple plan, of course. He would bide his time and wait until Hermione started begging guys for a date (and being rejected, of course). He would probably ask out Fleur and go with her if she waited too long. And, if Fleur rejects him, which he was sure she would (even he wasn't that dense), he would finally ask Hermione to the Ball as if he had no other choice. Then, she would thank him by snogging him senseless, and on the night of the ball, specifically right after the ball, if he played his cards right…
Then, when he received what he wanted and took what he wanted from her (and possibly get some homework done in the process), he would break up with her the next day. He then would have experience, and would actually know what he was doing if he ever ran into, say, Lavender Brown. Hermione wouldn't be complaining. She would be happy that someone had actually slept with her. And besides, it's not like she couldn't just ask him for sex. He would be happy to oblige. By the beginning of second term, he would have bedded the Bookworm and one of the hottest girls in his year, and possibly - if he was extremely lucky - at the same time some time during second term.
Once again, it was a simple plan, but if it worked perfectly, he would have been heavily rewarded.
But his plan was ruined before it even started. Pity, too; he had spent all day working on that plan. He hadn't even bee able to figure out how he was going to seduce Lavender. He could've stolen a potion from Snape's store. It didn't even matter, now. Harry had asked Hermione to the Ball. And she had accepted. Bloody prat.
But the question was… why? Why had Harry asked her to the Ball? It didn't make any sense. Hermione wasn't a sight for sore-eyes. She used to be, but she had changed…somehow. Wait, what happened to those hideous buck teeth? Did they shrink? How did that happen? He didn't linger on those questions for long. He was only mildly curious about these questions, however important they seemed to be. Even with normal teeth, Hermione was certainly nowhere near the perfect girl. She was too skinny, had a swamp-head, her butt was thinner than her waist (something that he did not know for a fact, seeing as he had only ever seen her in robes), she was to pale, her nose was pointier than her quill, and never mind the fact that she was a bossy know-it-all.
Yet, she did have some cool sides to her, but they were few. She slapped Malfoy. That was one. What else… oh, she shot Snape with a spell. Technically, he and Harry did that to, but she did it with them, which still surprised Ron. Um…she figured out how to save Ginny by figuring out the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets. That was really cool of her to do. But he was getting off-topic.
Anyway, back to original question; why did Harry Potter ask Hermione Granger (of all people!) to the Yule Ball? Was it because of the same reason he himself wanted to ask her to the ball? What if Harry had a plan? Was it the same plan that he had thought of, only revised and - dare he say it - better? Did Harry ask her to the Ball at the very beginning to get closer to her, and accomplish what Ron was trying to do on the night of the Ball before the Ball, and cancel the date with her with enough time to actually ask somebody pretty to the Ball, giving him experience for that night (and future nights, of course)?
Ron had to praise him for that. It was a genius plan. It was basically a double-hitter. While his own plan guaranteed only Hermione, Harry's plan almost assured both Hermione and one of the prettiest witches in the school. Ron had almost wondered if Hermione helped him think of the plan.
Ron was pissed, too. He knew for a fact that Hermione was a virgin, because no one would touch her (except a book). But Ron wasn't one of those people. A girl's arse is a girl's arse to him. He himself was a virgin, and tried to look for the easiest target since he was thirteen for some practice time and to get rid of his annoying `virginity status'. He really hated it. He knew that Fred and George would be teasing him mercilessly later in the year or next year. Maybe he would be able to tease them instead.
But Harry Bloody Potter just had to run in on his turf/target. It wasn't exactly a secret that Hermione had a crush on Harry. And now, Harry asked her to the Ball. Of course she would say yes. Ruddy perfect.
Ron didn't know if he had any actual feelings for Hermione. He was too young to know about love, or so he thought. But he knew that he was old enough to know about lust. For Merlin's sake, he hadn't even kissed a girl yet! He was beyond pathetic. He was an all-around virgin. He couldn't even admit to himself that he'd never been hugged by a girl outside of his family, even.
No. He wasn't going to give up. He should still stick to the plan. He had realized the loop-hole in the plan (that Ron had no doubt Harry had made). After Harry breaks up with Hermione, it would be before the Ball. That meant that Hermione would be available and vulnerable. She would need a shoulder to cry on, and he would have a lot of butterbeer to cheer her up (and more). While he didn't really fancy having Harry's leftovers, it couldn't be helped. He didn't have enough time to look for another target. She would have to do.
Ron groaned; he had the distinct feeling that the fates were trying to screw him over. It was working. Good thing fate left him a loophole.
But they weren't done.
“Ron?” A voice said quietly. Ron suppressed another groan as he turned around to see Hermione sitting on another loveseat in the room, looking up from a book. He didn't even notice that she was there. He then realized that during his musings, everyone left up to their dorms except for him and Hermione.
“Hey,” He said grumpily.
“Okay, what's wrong,” Hermione said as she folded the corner of the book and closed it to set it down.
“Nothing,” Ron snapped.
“It doesn't sound like `nothing',” Hermione muttered as she narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow at Ron, as if trying to read him like a book. Apparently, she could. “Harry told you, didn't he,” she said softly.
Ron narrowed his eyes at her and nodded slightly.
“I see,” Hermione whispered before clearing her throat. “Look, Ron, this doesn't change our friendship. You, Harry and I are always going to be best friends. It's just that Harry and I will be… you know…”
“Shagging?” Ron asked grumpily.
“Ron!” She almost screamed indignantly, “How could you even say that!” She refrained herself from standing up from the sofa and hex him a new one. She tried to calm herself. “Harry and I will be doing nothing of the sort.” `This year,' she thought pleasantly. “We're just dating.”
“W-what?” Ron asked in a scared whisper. “Harry told me that he asked you to the Ball. That's it.” Ron glazed over the fact that he had left immediately after Harry told him of his date to the Ball.
“Oh, um, I guess he didn't tell you, then.” Hermione blushed in embarrassment. They had promised that they tell Ron together, but the cat was out of the bag now. “After Harry asked me to the Ball, he, um, asked me to be his girlfriend. I accepted.”
Ron narrowed his eyes at her. “Why am I just being told this?”
At first, Hermione was rather shocked as his reply. At least a little `I'm happy for you' would've been nice. “You're the first to know,” Hermione explained quickly, “and we aren't going to just yell it to the whole school. Think of how many girls will be searching for me!”
“So that's why you're dating Harry, huh?”
“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked in pure curiosity.
“Nothing, nothing. I'm happy for you two,” Ron said with a grim look.
“What did you just say?”
“No, it was something you said.”
“What do you—” The implication of what Ron said hit her. “Ron, you know that I would never do that to Harry! How could you even think something like that? I am most certainly not trying to use Harry for anything. I just really like him. If I wanted to make other girls jealous, why do only you know?”
Ron shrugged. “To leave people gawking at you at the Ball. Pathetic, really. If you're not making people jealous in class, then you're trying to make them jealous other places, too.” Ron stood up and walked through the portrait, leaving a stunned Hermione behind.
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Harry walked down the stairs, large golden egg in hand, looking for the mass of bushy hair he knew was there. However, he didn't expect to hear a small sniffle coming from the bushy hair once he spotted it. Her face was hidden, but it was obvious what she was doing. He ran towards her faster than his legs could ever take him.
“Hermione!” He whispered in alarm as he saw her hunched over form, sobbing quietly, liquid that was obviously tears dropping onto the seat. Harry sat on the other half and scooted as close as he could to her while giving her enough space.
“Harry?” she half-whispered.
“Yes, `Mione,” he whispered back, wondering what happened to her.
Hermione lifted her head up to face Harry. Her tear-streaked face immediately heightened his panic; her eyes were red, indicating that she had been crying for a bit over a few minutes. He examined her face closely. There were no bruises or any signs of her being hurt. Someone used words to make her cry. When he finds out who reduced his Hermione to tears…
“Why are we still friends with Ron?” she asked, and for a second, Harry wondered if he had heard right. Of course it was Ron. It was usually Ron. In fact, it was almost always Ron. This had to stop; Harry was going to make sure of it.
“What did he say?” Harry asked in a dangerous whisper.
Hermione blinked and sniffled, “Harry…don't do anything to him…not for me…”
“You're crying, he caused it, he deserves whatever I do to him. I've been wanting you two to stop your bickering for a while; I'm getting tired of it. Until I asked you to the ball, I've been neutral, because I didn't want either of you to be mad at me. But then I realized two things: I would always choose you over Ron, and: I would be gay if I thought any different.”
This drew a small smile out of her, but she argued, “Harry, you shouldn't think like that. He's your best mate. Just because you choose him over me doesn't mean you're…homosexual.”
“Well, something would be wrong with me, wouldn't it? You've been with me through everything, and Ron recently taught me that he can't be completely depended on. I'll ask you again; what did he say?”
Hermione sniffled again before Harry used his knuckles to wipe away the tears. “I think we should just skip tonight,” he said softly.
Hermione sniffled once more, but shook her head negatively. “No…Harry, we should go to the library…”
“Hermione, I don't think Pince would like it if you flooded the pages with tears,” Harry said somberly. “I don't think we should work on the egg today. Why don't we…”
“No, Harry.”
“What?”
“I'm not in the snogging mood.”
“I know that. But I wasn't going to suggest that.”
“Then what were you going to suggest, then?”
“I was actually going to suggest that we start practicing dancing lessons.” `Then you might be in the mood', Harry thought.
“Oh, okay…but don't think I'll be in the mood afterwards,” Hermione said, wiping her eyes.
Harry had a disappointed look, but shrugged and stood up. He held out a hand to her. Hermione placed an old and tattered bookmark in between the book she had long abandoned and put it on the cushion Harry had just vacated. She took his hand and he pulled her up.
“You're doing well so far,” Hermione commented.
“I try,” Harry said as he wrapped an arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer.
Hermione gave a sly smile. “Are you trying to get me in the mood, Harry?”
“Am I?”
“It's working.”
“Then I am.”
They started dance steps first, and soon, Hermione was extremely glad that she had used numbing charms on her feet before-hand. Harry was blushing beet red with embarrassment by now, mumbling `sorry' every other minute. Hermione was fed up by his eighth apology and kissed him before he could finish the word. Needless to say, Harry said sorry more often until Hermione stomped on his foot to shut him up. After that, they began to sway to the imaginary music in silence, with few mistakes.
“You know,” Harry said lazily as Hermione had her head on his chest, “I'm going to talk to him.”
“Who?” Hermione asked, almost sleepily.
“Ron.”
“He didn't mean it. It was just the heat of the moment.”
“And how many more times is he gonna take it out on you? Why do I always have to referee your fights? How many more times is he gonna make you cry? You and I both know that the reason you two even talk to each other is because both of you are friends with me. Although…”
“What,” Hermione asked, less sleep in her voice.
“Why don't you get him back?”
“And how am I going to get him back? I'm not the type who would get revenge on someone.”
“`Mione, you are dating a son of one of the Marauders (and in my opinion, the leader) and the godson of another. Are you telling me that you can't think of anything?”
“Hold on,” she said, already deep in thought. Harry could practically feel the reeling of her head through his chest. He then felt her head move away from him. He looked down at her. She was wearing the most mischievous smirk Harry had ever seen since Sirius wore it as he was about to kill Peter. He briefly wondered why he didn't just let Peter die before Hermione spoke.
“I won't do his homework ever again.”
“Oh God, you're evil,” Harry said with a laugh. After composing himself again, he said, “at least you'll have a lot of free time.”
“Who said I'm going to have `free' time?” Hermione said. She pulled him to her and stood up straighter.
Something told Harry that he had successfully put Hermione into the mood.
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Once again, I am sorry for Ron and his (ugh) thoughts. Yet, I am having fun with him. It is so easy to bash the Weasleys. I'm still wondering if Ginny should be upset about it all.
http://RihaansFics.webs.com/TYBR - go there for the rest of the story, please!
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