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Chapter Text

Chapter One

It has been two centuries since the fateful day when the enmity between the Weasleys and the Potters began. The day the Weasleys lost a daughter, whom they believe to this day was murdered by the Potters, who vehemently claimed she was treated like their own daughter in their house. Two centuries ago, the Weasleys and Potters became a family when their daughter, Annabeth Weasley, and their son, Enord Potter, fell in love and married each other. But that relationship didn't last long, as within a year of the marriage, Annabeth Potter, née Weasley, died in an accident. It never came out how or when she died, but all they ever found was her body a week later after she had gone missing in a forest located in southern France. The death of a daughter brought nothing but misery to the family, as in their grief for the loss of their daughter, they claimed she was killed by her husband and in-laws.

Then came the story that the Potters had not always treated Annabeth Potter nèe Weasley right. But eventually, no one could really show any evidence or prove that Annabeth Potter was really killed by her in-laws. The Potters always claimed she was treated like a daughter and that they never neglected or harmed her, physically or emotionally, but the Weasleys didn't believe in their innocence and swore vengeance on them. The vengeance did come as the youngest brother of Annabeth killed Enord Potter in a fierce duel. This began an enmity that still lingers between the families even after two centuries. For two centuries, the Weasleys never had a daughter until Ginerva Weasley was born to Arthur and Molly Weasley.

But this tale is about one Hermione Granger, who is an adopted child of James and Lily Potter and Ron Weasley, the older brother of Ginerva Weasley.

Hermione Granger

The life Hermione has known is nothing short of a miracle and a nightmare.

She was five years old when she was told that she was a witch, and life has never been simpler since. One day she was in the town's local library, as usual, reading to her heart's content. One of the books she was really interested in reading was on a top shelf, quite out of reach, but Hermione was stubborn. She somehow even tried to climb the shelves to reach the book, but it didn't work. Just when she was about to give up, the book suddenly came floating towards her, and she heard a gasp from behind her. When she turned around, she saw a woman with red hair. She knew her; she lived in their neighborhood, and her name was Lily Potter. She might have been coming towards Hermione after seeing her struggle to get the book and obviously saw what had happened. Hermione had kind of accepted that weird things happened around her, and it was not the first time. Once she somehow managed to repair one of her favorite books when it was soaked in water because of rain. Then the woman smiled at her as she introduced herself, "Hello dear, my name is Lily Potter. You must be Hermione?"

She remembered that day vividly, even after eleven years. The woman she met that day became her parent just a couple of years later when she lost her parents in an accident. After losing her parents, she didn't even know what was going to happen to her until Lily Potter and James Potter adopted her. She already knew Harry by then, as when she learned she was a witch, she almost spent most of her time with the Potters. But now, as she became part of their family, Harry became her younger brother. She has a younger sister too, as three years ago, they welcomed a new member to their family.

"Earth to Hermy?" she heard as someone snapped fingers in front of her.

"Don't call me that," she snapped at her younger brother Harry as he cheekily smiled at her and, with a single wave towards her, ran towards the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, disappearing. She heard her father James Potter say, "Now you, my lady." It was her cue to get to the platform, and she did. Just a couple of minutes later, she was surrounded by her family. Thankfully, her sister was peacefully sleeping on the shoulder of her mother. That girl was a heavy sleeper; once she was asleep, not even a dragon could wake her up.

She kissed her sister's cheek and whispered, "Bye, Pie," to her. She smiled in her sleep. Next, she hugged her mother, her sister sandwiched between them.

"You better write to me every week," her mother Lily Potter said.

"Take care of yourself, and make sure that your brother stays in line."

"Yes, Mum," she replied.

Next, she hugged her father, who just messed with her hair. She punched him in the chest as he started laughing. He always did that with her-her hair was already a mess, and he created more of it.

"Hey, kiddo, try to relax too. You don't always have to study. You're better than most; if anything, you're the best," James said. "So don't take too much pressure just because it's an OWL year."

She huffed a bit, then smiled at her dad and replied, "Don't worry, Dad."

As her father helped her get her trunk into one of the compartments, Harry came bounding back to say his goodbye. After another round of goodbyes, Hermione boarded the train and sat in the compartment she found with her dad's help. Just a couple of minutes later, the train began to whistle aloud. It was already 11 o'clock, the departure time of the train. Out of the window, she saw it was her sister's cue to wake up, looking a bit confused as the train started moving. The last she saw was her sister trying to get away from their mother to board the train.

Her sister was a menace. She was asleep for most of the time on the platform because she didn't sleep even for a moment the previous night after realizing that Hermione and Harry were leaving for school.

She was determined not to let them go.

Hermione made her way to the prefects' meeting with this year's appointed Head Boy and Head Girl. She was glad to be a prefect and wasn't really surprised to become one. What surprised her was the other person who became a prefect-someone she can't really understand how anyone in their right mind would make a prefect or give any kind of responsibility. That kid was lazy, obnoxious, selfish, and not that academically gifted. If logic prevailed, Harry should've been the one to become a prefect, but she found a sound reason for that, as her brother was this year's Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, so it made sense not to give him any more burden, especially since it was their OWL year. But then there was Dean and Seamus; they would have been finer choices than the guy they chose as prefect, but maybe their record of getting a lot of detention didn't sit well with the one who appointed the prefects. Still, they were left with one fine choice, and that was Neville. He maybe wasn't so bright when it came to classes or tests, but he was one hardworking boy. So why, instead of choosing Neville, did they choose the one guy who should never have been given such responsibility? Why would anyone in their right mind would make Ronald Weasley a prefect?

As her rant came to an end, she reached her destination. Everyone was already there, of course, except Ronald Weasley. He came to the meeting but after thirty minutes. Why bother even coming when the meeting was just about to finish?

"This is a joke, right? Weasley is a prefect?" Draco Malfoy said snidely, and for once, Hermione agreed with him.

"Enough, Malfoy," said Christine Blandworth, the Head Girl. She was a seventh-year Slytherin.

"Um-I'm sorry, it just slipped my mind that I was supposed to be here," Ronald Weasley said hurriedly, obviously embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Never mind, next time don't bother coming if you're late," said Alexander Worinson, a seventh-year Ravenclaw.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," Ron replied as he sat down right beside her.

Great.

After suffering another fifteen minutes in the presence of the Great Oaf named Ronald Weasley, as they patrolled the train corridors, she was finally able to join her brother and his friends in the compartment. Hermione didn't really make any friends during her time at Hogwarts. She tried in her first year, but she couldn't really get close to anybody. She was just happy with herself. It wasn't like Harry ever left her side. He was always there with her. He was her best friend even before he became her brother, and that didn't change at Hogwarts. He always made sure to be with her. She knew her brother was a sweet boy. Oh, she knew he wouldn't like for her to say something like this, as he was a boy, but he was.

The train journey was peaceful for the most part. Her brother and his friends did play Exploding Snap in the compartment, which made quite a racket, but aside from that, the train journey was smooth. She was able to read one of her favorite books during the journey, a fictional novel named *A Forgetful Day* written by a witch named Rosemary Septimus. She still found novels written in the magical world quite fascinating; they had their own charm, which was quite different from those written in the Muggle world.

After the journey, she was quite hungry and really wanted some food. So, when they finally entered the Great Hall, she just wanted to get the sorting over with and patiently waited for the food to appear.

When it did, she tried to fill her plate as quickly as possible. She heard someone say, "Bloody hell, I was going to die if I had to wait another minute for this."

She shouldn't have looked in that direction, but against her better judgment, she did. She knew who it was-his voice was too recognizable. She had heard it one too many times here. He was sitting just a few steps away from her. From her angle, she could see him clearly, stuffing his mouth with chicken. It killed her appetite.

Why did he have to eat like a monkey? Ugh.

She didn't want to do this, especially not with Ronald Weasley, but it was her duty as a prefect to escort the new members to their house-a duty she shared with Ronald Weasley of all people. He didn't try to talk to her, and she was thankful for that. They both gathered the first years, and he let her speak to them. After she finally showed every female student their dormitory, she headed to her own. Instead of planning tomorrow's lesson, she decided to sleep. She was just too tired.

The first week was a blur for Hermione. Their classes for the first years were about the introduction of the OWLs this year. They mostly revised what they had learned so far instead of starting anything new. She spent most of her time in the library, as she had to plan the whole year. She could not afford any lapses; this year was going to be significant for her life as a witch, and she couldn't let anything go wrong. She had to spend two days a week with Ronald Weasley doing their prefect patrols for an hour. He mostly kept to himself and showed up mostly on time-by his standards, always a couple of minutes late.

But as soon as the trials for the Gryffindor Quidditch team were announced, Harry asked her to come and watch. She had no interest in the game, but she still attended the trials as her brother requested.

For some reason, he liked her presence whenever he played Quidditch. She had never missed a game since her first year when he unexpectedly became a Seeker. She obviously berated and scolded him for a week for being reckless. She couldn't let him think that breaking the rules was acceptable, even though he got away with it that time. Even if he was only helping Neville, he still broke the rules and put himself in harm's way, and she was against that.

The trials took a lot of time as so many people showed up for them, including Ronald Weasley and Ginny Weasley. Hermione had never really talked to Ginny. She seemed sweet enough, but Hermione had no interest in trying to befriend another Weasley. She still remembered when she tried to be friendly to one and how he reacted toward her. Maybe it was because of that blasted enmity between the Potters and the Weasleys, or maybe not. She never really believed in holding grudges this long, but maybe they did.

Ginny Weasley managed to perform very well in the trials. Even Hermione knew who was playing well enough to get on the team.

Her family was full of Quidditch fanatics, after all. Only her mum and she were the sane ones in the family. When Ronald Weasley's turn came, he didn't perform badly, but he didn't perform that well either.

He only saved 5 goals out of 7, while one named Roxy Timber, a fourth-year, saved 5 out of 7, and Cormac MacLaggen saved 6 out of 7. Cormac looked way fitter than Ronald, taller and more burly.

Ronald was tall but lankier, not as burly as Cormac. Ronald looked much more nervous while keeping than Cormac, and knowing Harry, he was never going to choose a Weasley, especially when he had better options.

The next day, when the team was announced, Ronald Weasley's name was nowhere to be seen, not even in the reserves. She felt a little bad for him, as she realized he looked tired whenever he came for patrolling, and one day he had his broom with him-obviously preparing himself for trying out.

Ron Weasley

He should've known better than to try out, but maybe he liked humiliation. He tried his best to get selected as a Keeper for the team, but as always, his best wasn't good enough. He was trying to one-up Potter. He didn't really care much about the enmity that ran between their families, but he had to honor it. It all started for a reason. The Weasleys gave their daughter to the Potters, and even if it happened centuries ago, it happened. Since then, no girl was born in their family except Ginny. His father made them swear to protect their sister against everything, and that included making sure to stay on the other side of the Potters. It looked foolish to do this, but they didn't want to play with fate. History tends to repeat itself, as his father has told them multiple times. Potters weren't just their enemies; they stood against his mother's side of the family too when their maternal great-grandfather, Marvell Prewett, was betrayed by none other than Esmond Potter. Potters have a tendency to betray, and his family couldn't take that chance, so they kept their distance.

His uncles, Fabian and Gideon, were at Hogwarts when James Potter was there. They were two years senior to him, but that didn't stop what came after. There were lots of pranks and fights between his uncles and James Potter and his friends. To this day, the pranks that took place between them are legendary. It didn't end with the pranks; it ended with a nasty duel. His uncle Gideon lost an ear that day, and James Potter's friend Sirius Black got a nasty scar on his chest. At least no one died.

Ron was with the Potters in Hogwarts; they were in the same year, same house, and he shared a dormitory with one of them. And then there's Granger. She was the one who truly showed him how bigheaded the Potters were, despite not being one herself. She was just raised by the Potters, but she had all of their qualities. Oh god, how she shows off. She thinks she's the smartest in the whole world.

She never misses a chance to show it. Even as an eleven-year-old, she had an air of being better than everybody else. She was condescending whenever she talked to him. She always tried to talk to him, when she got the chance to tell him how stupid he was.

Whenever he tried to do a spell, she was like, "No, no, that's not how you do it." Who asked for your help, girl? Just keep your bloody nose in your bloody business, but she had to show him up. She was present in the Quidditch trials. He saw her sitting on one of the benches in the Gryffindor stands. She must've laughed at his poor attempts to save the Quaffle. Let's forget about it. It has been two days since those horrendous trials. What shocked him most that day was Ginny showing up to the trials. The way she flew, it looked like that's all she had ever done in her life. Obviously, he and the twins tried to change her mind about the trials, but she was as stubborn as the next Weasley. It was in their blood. She would've hexed them if they hadn't stopped. She managed to get on the team, and the twins will look after her. He wasn't that worried about her. Oh Merlin, it was time.

Hermione was, as always, standing in front of the gate to their common room. She didn't say anything; she just looked at him and started walking toward the corridor they were supposed to patrol that evening. They were always silent on their patrols, only saying what was necessary.

"You played well," Hermione spoke out of nowhere. Ron was a bit shocked to hear her say that. He looked at her for confirmation-she did speak.

"What?" Ron asked as they were still walking.

"About the trials, you performed well that day," She repeated.

"Oh," Ron was a bit dumbstruck. No way Granger was ever going to compliment him, but she didn't look like she was making fun of him.

Her voice wasn't condescending; if anything, it was small but firm.

They kept walking, and after a minute or two, when Ron digested her words, he realized if it was anything, it was pity. I don't need her pity.

It made him angry. He wanted to shout at her, but instead, he spoke firmly, "I don't need your pity, Granger."

"I'm not pitying you, Weasley," she replied, her edge back. Now she sounded like herself.

"Granger, that was pity," Ron said, trying to keep control of his anger.

He wasn't going to shout at her. "And I don't want it, especially not from you."

"Can't you just take a compliment as a compliment?" she said. "Why would I pity you?"

"Why would you compliment me?" Ron asked her back not a bit anger in his voice

"Maybe because you played well," she replied. "I just wanted to make you feel a little better-"

"See, right there-that's pity," Ron said snidely. Maybe she didn't want to admit it. It was out of pity. She felt like how could someone as dumb as him figure her out? Right?

"You know what? I don't care!" she shouted as she threw her arms up and walked right past him. For the rest of their patrol, they didn't try to talk to each other, nor did they walk alongside each other.

...

to be continued.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two .

Hermione Granger

Hermione stormed into her dormitory, livid. That boy always managed to get under her skin so easily-it was like first year all over again. He couldn't just accept her help. He couldn't just accept her compliment. People had told her she could be a bit condescending, so she had even made sure not to sound that way, but still, he managed to get offended by her genuine compliment. What made her even more livid was that he was right. Of course, he was right.

She wasn't going to admit that in front of him, but her compliment did come from a place of pity. She knew he had worked hard for the position and still failed to get it. He really didn't play that well. There were two better players at the trials, and he had been a nervous wreck. All of those things made him unsuitable for the position, but he had looked so sad. He wasn't his usual carefree self, and she just wanted to make him feel a little better. It didn't matter; she shouldn't have said anything. Maybe she should apologize to him for pitying him or for shouting at him. No, that's embarrassing. It's not like he apologized to you, Hermione, the last time he upset you. Harry did hex him, though. Ugh, those months were horrid. Harry, his friends Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, got into a prank battle with the twins. Obviously, the twins won more than one occasion, but still, those few months were horrid. She just had to let it all go and never try to talk to him again.

Hermione's next few weeks were peaceful enough. Ronald Weasley and she didn't have any more conversations. They just silently did their patrols. On her birthday, Harry, as always, decided to throw a party. It was bigger than the previous ones and wasn't just limited to his dormitory. She was right on schedule, as always, with her study sessions. Classes were good, and she was consistently getting an O on her assignments. September was about to end when she found herself in the library in the late hours. As fifth years and above were allowed a few extra hours in the library, she took full advantage of it.

That day, though, she didn't expect to see Ronald Weasley studying in the library. If her memory served her right, she had never seen Ronald Weasley in the library before. That was saying something, as Hermione spent almost all of her free time there. Only on Harry's insistence did she sometimes join him in the common room to do her assignments.

He was reading a huge book. That was not just any huge book-it was "Hogwarts: A History." Why would he read that? Maybe she had been staring at him for too long, as she suddenly met the eyes of Ronald Weasley. He cocked his head a bit, obviously trying to understand why she was staring at him. Hermione, calm down. You know what you have to do. She walked over to his table. He was still looking at her with a questioning gaze.

"I was trying to find 'Hogwarts: A History,'" she lied. Why would she look for this book when she made sure to bring her own copy every year? "Then I saw you have it."

"Oh, that's alright," he said, looking satisfied with her answer. "For the assignment, right?"

"Yes, obviously," she replied. Of course, he was reading it for the myths and legends assignment given by Professor Binns. How could she forget? But of course, she forgot because she had completed it almost a week ago. Why did he postpone writing it for this long?

"Right," Ron said. "I've already written half of it. Maybe another foot or two, and I'll be done."

She craned her neck a bit to look at his parchment. His handwriting was messy, but she still understood it.

"Oh, right," Hermione replied. "So, what legends and myths have you chosen?"

He looked like he would rather be doing anything else than repeating whatever he had researched so far, but he spoke. "Nothing much.

I've written about Ravenclaw's Ghost, Gryffindor's secret bathroom, and then there's this funny one-um, right, about Centaurs planning to invade Hogwarts, but then they saw the stars and decided they'd have to wait another millennia or something."

"Yes, I've read about the Centaurs one. It's quite intriguing, actually.

And as you put it, quite funny," Hermione said automatically. "The latest reports say that if the myth is true, the Centaurs should be invading any year now."

"You're saying Centaurs could be planning an invasion right now?"

Ron asked, looking quite amused by the whole situation.

"It's not amusing, Weasley," Hermione said, berating him. "It's quite a serious situation. Some people interviewed Centaurs a few years ago, and all the Centaurs said was, 'The stars are not aligning.'" "Oh, yes, right. It's not amusing at all," Ron said, trying to keep a straight face. Okay, she would concede it was a bit amusing-the whole situation. Like planning an invasion a thousand years ago when Hogwarts was just founded, then not doing it. And now, a thousand years later, they're still saying the stars are not aligning.

She laughed then, as she thought of the whole situation. She realized Ronald Weasley was laughing with her. When they managed to stop, they both shared a smile.

"Right now, I'm writing about the Chamber of Secrets," Ron said.

"Any pointers?"

"About the Chamber of Secrets, there's not much known about it except that it was built by Salazar Slytherin to eradicate Muggle-borns after he left Hogwarts," Hermione said matter-of-factly, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's somewhere in the castle, according to legend, and houses a monster."

"Yes, that bastard," Ron replied with venom. "I'm glad that slimy snake was kicked out of here."

"Language," she reprimanded him lightly-old habits die hard. "I'm glad too. He was a cruel man. He made a chamber just because he couldn't stand another human being. Sometimes it's hard for me to understand how someone could wish death upon someone just for existing."

"Yeah, sorry," Ron replied. She saw he was still angry, but not at her.

"Yes, he was a cruel man, and the world is better without people like him."

"Yes, the world is better now, but the pureblood bigotry still exists. As long as people like Malfoy keep spewing hate, it's never going to truly change," Hermione said. She was actually surprised with herself-and with Ron Weasley. He was being sensible. This conversation had been nothing but mature and sensible. She was surprised with herself because she was letting out her personal feelings too.

"Yes, quite understandable, Granger," Ron replied. "Malfoy's a piece of crap, and sooner or later, he'll realize he's nothing but an arsehole-sorry."

"It's alright." She wanted to scold him for using such crude language again, but she didn't want to ruin this little peace between them.

They both sat silently, with him just writing on his parchment again, writing quickly. Maybe she should stand up and go do her work. She was about to do just that when-"What do you think the monster is?" Ron asked.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, caught quite off guard.

"The monster in the chamber," Ron repeated. "What do you think it is?"

"Oh, that," Hermione said thoughtfully, as she digested the question.

It wasn't that she hadn't thought about it. The first time she read about the chamber was in her third year. Then she devoured every bit of information she could find about it. There was little to be found, but she did, and she came to a conclusion about so many things, which she was sharing for the first time with someone. Who would've thought it would be Ron Weasley of all people? "Actually, I think it's some kind of snake, or at least something that can be controlled by Salazar. But what's better than a snake to him? He was a Parselmouth; it wouldn't be difficult for him to communicate with a snake."

"Wow-Hermione," Ron said, looking amazed. She blushed. He had used her first name without even realizing it. "That's kind of reasonable."

"Yes, it's not that difficult to deduce. Anyone can figure it out-all they have to do is research properly," Hermione replied, because it really wasn't that big of a deal. If Ron Weasley researched, he would've come to the same conclusion as her.

"But Hermione, that's the thing. You did the research, looked at it from every angle, and came up with a conclusion. That's amazing," Ron said, as if making her understand she truly did something amazing. He used her name twice consecutively without even realizing it. For some reason, she wanted more compliments, so she started sharing more.

"Actually, there's more. I mean, this is just my speculation," Hermione said. "But I think it's a basilisk. A basilisk can kill you with just a look."

"See, I told you. You're brilliant," Ron said, beaming at her.

"You can use it in your assignment-my speculations," Hermione said.

She had never given anybody her help like this; she didn't even let Harry use her research for his homework.

"It's alright," Ron said as he got back to his assignment. "It's your work, not mine."

"You can, though," Hermione insisted. What's gotten into her? "It's not like I can use it. I mean, I didn't even write about the Chamber in my assignment."

"Thanks, Hermione, but no," said Ron, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Okay," she said, smiling at him. She didn't want to force him.

"Wait a minute," Ron said, confused. "I thought you hadn't written your assignment yet," he pointed at Hogwarts: A History.

"Um - I'm going to write it," Hermione said. Really, it slipped her mind that she was lying from the beginning of this conversation. "I meant I do not plan on writing about the Chamber."

"Okay," Ron said. He looked like he didn't quite believe it, but he didn't push her any further. "You should write about the Chamber, though. Your research is good."

"Yes, of course," Hermione replied. Great, now I'll have to write about the Chamber tonight. Another foot or two, as Ron graciously put it. It won't hurt me. Professor Binns sometimes makes us swap our assignments among students. It's better to be safe than sorry.

What if her assignment ends up in the hands of Ron Weasley? She sat there awkwardly, thinking over everything that had happened in the last fifteen or so minutes. She could hear the quill scratching over the parchment as Ron was still writing.

"I'm done," Ron said, quite pleased with himself, as he pushed Hogwarts: A History toward her. "All yours."

"Thanks," she replied, bemused by the whole situation. Soon enough, Ron Weasley left the library. She sat there with a copy of Hogwarts: A History in her hands.

Ron Weasley

Ron walked out of the library as quickly as possible after giving Hermione the book. That was barmy, he thought. How could he let himself get so out of control? He called her amazing and brilliant multiple times; now she must think he's some kind of idiot for overreacting over such trivial matters. For him, guessing everything like that wasn't trivial. Hermione just sat there and speculated, making such good guesses that Ron was sure if there's any chamber in this castle, it will be holding a basilisk within it because that made sense. She really was brilliant. Today, she wasn't even being condescending; she was just being knowledgeable, not like Percy. Percy liked being smart, being better than anybody else. It was in his voice. She, on the other hand, didn't seem that way at all today, not even when she was eleven years old. She seemed like someone who loved reading and being smart. She loved talking about smart things, just as he loved playing Quidditch. Maybe she didn't read just to be better than everyone else. Maybe she just read this much because she loved it. Aren't you supposed to do what you love the most?

The next couple of days were quite normal for Ron. As he went from class to class, he did see Hermione Granger. In class, sometimes in the hallways, and obviously in the evening at dinner, but never in the morning. She was probably an early riser. By the time she was finished eating, he was trying to get out of his pajamas. He didn't try to talk to her, he didn't even try to look at her. Then there was yesterday afternoon in History of Magic class. Professor Binns made them swap their assignments around. He got Dean Thomas's, but he didn't know who got his. Then he heard Seamus speaking.

"Blimey, Hermione, that's wild."

"Can you let the whole class know what's wild, Mr. Finnigan?"

Professor Binns said with an annoyed tone.

"Right - Here, everybody. Hermione solved the mystery. According to her, the monster in the Chamber of Secrets is a Basilisk," Seamus said proudly, beaming at Hermione. He saw Hermione blushing hard.

Ron felt a bit annoyed at bloody Finnigan but was happy for Hermione. Now everyone's going to know she's brilliant.

"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" someone shouted.

"What's a basilisk?" he heard a girly voice, most probably Lavender Brown.

"That's just a legend, Mr. Finnigan," Professor Binns's voice came floating.

"But still, what's the secret of the Chamber of Secrets?" It was Dean Thomas who was rambling now, and Ron looked around and saw Hermione looking uncomfortable with the whole situation. He'd had enough. "Really - All of you don't know what the bloody Chamber of Secrets is?" he shouted.

"You tell us what's the bloody secret then!" It was a Ravenclaw who shouted at him. Wow! A Ravenclaw is asking him a question. Aren't they supposed to be smart?

"All of you, that's enough of this nonsense. There's nothing about the Chamber of Secrets because it doesn't exist. It's nothing but a legend. We here only talk about facts," Professor Binns shouted again. "The nonsense with the myths and legends assignment - it's a nonsensical part of the curriculum, but it's part of the curriculum nonetheless, and I have to follow that."

That was the end of the class. After it ended, everyone circled around Hermione, asking questions. Ron left the class.

Now he was getting ready for his prefect duty. It had been two days since he talked to Hermione Granger. He walked out of the common room through the portrait of the Fat Lady. He encountered an unusual sight: Hermione Granger was nowhere to be seen. He looked at his watch on his wrist and realized he was five minutes early. Hermione came out of the Gryffindor common room in just the next two minutes.

"You're on time," Hermione said, surprised to find him already out there. His ears burned a bit; he was always late, right?

"Actually, not on time, a bit early," Ron replied, smiling.

"Yes, early," Hermione said. She looked tired. Does this girl ever rest? He was sure she was in the library before this, then came back to the common room in a hurry, got refreshed in whatever short time she had, and now she was walking alongside him. Does she ever rest? Does she ever relax?

"I'm sorry," he said. He was sorry for yesterday's event. He knew she got upset over everything that happened in class.

"For what?" she said, confused by his apology.

"For yesterday. If I hadn't given you the idea to write about the Chamber in all its glory, you might not have gotten upset over everybody's reaction," Ron explained.

"It's alright. After all, I should share what I've found, right? They were all quite impressed by my research," Hermione said, beaming at him.

She quickly added, "I wasn't upset."

"You were - I mean, the way Binns responded," Ron said. He saw the look on her face, crestfallen when a teacher told her she was just wasting her time by researching legends.

"No, I was not. Professor Binns was quite right about the facts-" "Come on, Granger. I know you were upset. You can badmouth a teacher," Ron said as he came to a halt. So did she.

"I was not upset by any of his statements, and I'm not going to badmouth a teacher, neither should you," Hermione replied as she started walking again. He just quietly followed her, not saying anything, as she checked the empty classrooms. Their patrolling was about to come to an end when he decided to speak again.

"Teachers' opinions matter to you, and him saying that your research was a waste of time did upset you."

She turned around, looked at him for a minute, and sighed. "Alright, I was upset over what he said. Professor Binns and my opinions quite don't align anymore."

"That's your way of badmouthing - 'our opinions don't align anymore,'" Ron said jokingly.

"Quite right, Ronald," she said without looking at him as she was walking ahead of him.

"Can I badmouth him for you?"

She looked like she was considering it. Then with a sigh, she said, "Alright, just once."

"Professor Binns believes in facts so much that he is afraid of becoming a myth. That's why he's still teaching here; he doesn't want to become a myth so that a century later, someone can say there was once a teacher who was boring. Because everybody knows whoever teaches history is always interesting," Ron finished his poor attempt at a joke.

Hermione looked like she was trying to understand it. After a couple of minutes, she said, "A very poor joke, Ron. I don't think it's even a joke."

"A good joke should be as transparent as Professor Binns, right?"

Ron joked.

"Another poor attempt," she said despite herself, smiling. Then she added, "I never gave you permission for another one, though."

"Miss Granger, I apologize for my transgression," Ron said as he bowed his head.

"Apology accepted, Mr. Weasley," she said and then laughed.

..

to be continued

Chapter Text

Hermione Granger

October had already started, and in the first week of the month, a notice had been posted on the notice board announcing the dates for the Hogsmeade weekend visit. It was scheduled, as usual, for the weekend before Halloween. Hermione and Ron Weasley had been on friendly terms since their History assignment. It had been over two weeks now, and they only talked during their prefect duties together. She enjoyed talking to him; he was a funny and light-hearted guy. She had never seen this side of Ron Weasley before—it always felt like they could never get along, but these past few weeks had proven her wrong.

On the weekend, she was sitting in the common room doing her homework when her brother came and sat beside her. It was obvious he was tired. He had just finished his practice session for the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin.

“How was your practice?” Hermione asked him.

“It was good, except for the MacLaggen part,” Harry grumbled, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“Why don’t you just kick him out?” Hermione said matter-of-factly. She had heard plenty about MacLaggen’s behavior by now. Since Harry started practicing, he had always been complaining about how MacLaggen was a right prat during practices, how he was full of himself, acting like he was the captain, and criticizing everyone about everything.

“It’s not that simple. He played well enough to be selected. He’s just not a team player. Oh God, why couldn’t that Weasley have played better than him? I’d choose that nervous wreck over this big-headed bully any day,” Harry ranted.

“What about Roxy Timber? She played well and didn’t seem that nervous,” Hermione suggested. She wanted to suggest Ron and tell Harry that he could improve over time, but she wasn’t going to tell Harry. She and Ron were on friendly terms now, and she didn’t want to tell her brother that just yet.

“Actually, I did ask her before selecting MacLaggen. I was planning on making her the next Keeper,” said Harry, “but she’s part of the Gobstones Club, and she said she’d prioritize that over Quidditch if the schedules clashed.”

“Oh – then maybe you can talk to Weasley,” Hermione advised.

“Yeah, no,” Harry replied. “I already have three Weasleys, and I’m not bringing in another. MacLaggen did play better than him at trials, so I’ll just have to stick with that jerk.”

“It’s up to you,” Hermione said.

Ron Weasley

Ron actually quite liked talking to Hermione Granger as he got to know her more during the last few weeks. She was not insufferable, bossy, or a know-it-all if you really talked to her. She was smart, intelligent, and, if he was honest, a bit scary—he had seen her dishing out detentions to many students. Their conversations after the library incident had been nice. Whenever they patrolled corridors or performed other duties as prefects, things weren’t boring anymore. They talked a lot, their conversations were funny, and their banter was light-hearted. Maybe he had finally made a friend at Hogwarts. Who would have guessed it would be Hermione Granger, though?

He still remembered his first day at Hogwarts. He was impressed, enchanted, and fascinated by the castle. He was excited to make new friends, but he soon found himself with Potter in the dormitory and realized Potter had already made friends with Dean and Seamus. That left only Neville. Ron talked to Neville; he was a kind and sweet guy, a nervous fellow. Maybe more so than Ron. But at the same time, Neville was too different from him—they didn’t really get along that well. Neville was the kind of guy who was friends with everybody. Ron wasn’t going to make friends with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. That left Hermione Granger, who, for some reason, was hell-bent on annoying him. Looking back now, Ron thought maybe she was just genuinely trying to help him but came across as bossy. He had also associated her with Potter, which made him more hostile toward her than necessary.

His breaking point with her was when she corrected him in their Charms class on Halloween; they were partners in that class. After the class ended, he exploded at her, “You are an insufferable know-it-all!” His one statement made her cry, as her brother Potter very kindly told him later while hexing him. That led to nothing but a war between his twin brothers and Potter. They were pranking each other, hexing and cursing. Their little feud almost cost Gryffindor their first Quidditch match against Slytherin that year, but Potter managed to grab the Snitch and became a celebrity in Gryffindor house, at the age of eleven. Professor McGonagall gave them all a lot of detention despite Potter and the twins managing to win the match, in an effort to stop their little war against each other.

Ron, after dinner that evening, decided to take a shower—he was feeling a bit tired and smelly. He was on patrolling duty that evening. They were scheduled to patrol the corridors late that day, just after curfew. When he came out of the shower, he saw Potter changing into his pajamas.

“Keep your distance from my sister, Weasley,” he heard Potter say as he was about to go downstairs.

“Or else?” Ron challenged.

“Or I’ll hex your bollocks off,” Potter replied, smirking. Ron wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. But he just ignored him—there was no point in losing his temper. He found Hermione Granger reading a book on one of the couches near the fireplace. There were only a couple of students in the common room.

“You’re here,” Hermione said as she saw him, closing her book and putting it in her bag.

“Yes, let’s go,” Ron said as he made his way to the portrait hole, Hermione following him.

They didn’t really speak that much once they started patrolling. Ron was racking his brain to come up with something to talk about. Wait a minute—why was he thinking so hard about it? It’s not like he needed to talk with her. He was totally comfortable with the silence between them, right? Right.

Hermione was checking one of the last classrooms on their route when she stood at the entrance for a minute, then looked back at him, as if she was thinking about something.

“Everything’s clear, we should get back to our common room,” Hermione said hurriedly as she turned around. Ron was suspicious of what she had seen in the supposedly empty classroom.

“Let me check,” he said curiously, but she stood in front of him and insisted, “It’s all clear, Ron. Let’s go.”

Ron knew she was lying to him—there was something about that classroom she just didn’t want to tell him. If it had been a student or students doing something, she would’ve already given them detention. It was a common occurrence for them now, finding students out of their common rooms after curfew. They were immune to whatever they saw in empty classrooms—it didn’t even surprise them anymore. It had been almost two months since they started patrolling the corridors and looking for rule-breakers and troublemakers, and that list included romantic couples. On their second day of patrolling, they found two third-year Hufflepuffs in a broom closet of all places. Both of them were in an embarrassing situation. They were just kids—two years younger than them. It was embarrassing for Ron and Hermione too. Hermione managed to stutter out a punishment, though. She never forgot to punish rule-breakers, so whatever was happening tonight shouldn’t have stopped her either.

Ron turned around with Hermione to walk back to their common room, playing along. After just two steps, Hermione looked relaxed, like her ploy had worked. At that very moment, Ron turned around and ran straight into the classroom to see what had caused Hermione to lose her sense of responsibility as a prefect.

Maybe he should’ve listened to her, as what he saw just angered him beyond reason. He found his sister there with a bloke, their fingers intertwined. At least they were not kissing, but the way his sister’s clothes were disheveled and her hair unkempt... Then he saw the guy—it was Michael Corner, a fifth-year Ravenclaw—with that grin of satisfaction on his face, which irked Ron. Obviously, a couple of minutes ago, both of them had been involved in a heavy session of snogging. His little sister and this pervert. He saw red.

He realized what he had done when two small hands were pulling him up. He saw Michael Corner flat on his back on the floor, clutching his bloody nose. Ginny, with her wand out, looked like their mum, about to spank him. He heard the frantic voice of the person who was holding him.

“Calm down, calm down. Everybody calm down!”

It was Hermione; she was holding him, her arms firmly around his waist.

“YOU STUPID PRAT. WHY DID YOU PUNCH HIM?” Ginny shouted at him. She was angry. He knew it was better to just leave and apologize later, but he was angry too. She was too little to be doing this obscene stuff. She was young, bloody younger than him. If she behaved like this, people would call her some scarlet woman.

“BECAUSE THAT PERVERT PUT HIS HANDS ON YOU. WHY WERE YOU DOING SOMETHING LIKE THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE? ARE YOU SOME SCARLET WOMAN?” Ron roared back at his sister.

“YOU—” Ginny looked like she was too angry to continue, so she just hexed him, and it was not a pretty sight.

Michael was already groaning on the floor; obviously, his nose was broken. That punch must’ve hurt him. Ron was now leaning on a bench, trying to get control of the situation. He saw Hermione looking at him. She looked horrified. He must be a sight right now. At least it wasn’t that painful, except for the bloody bats trying to get out of his nose every effing five seconds.

“Weasley, you just can’t hex somebody like this,” Hermione admonished his sister. Ginny looked like she was about to explode again and hex Hermione too, but she just helped Corner stand up, who was now glaring at Ron.

“Let’s go to the infirmary,” Ginny said to Corner, ignoring Ron and Hermione. She took Corner out of the classroom. Hermione just sputtered, asking Ginny to stop and reverse her hex.

“Your sister, I’ll make sure to give her detention for this. You’ll get one too for behaving this rashly,” Hermione said angrily to him, then cringed when she saw a bat struggling to come out of his nose. It was effing humiliating what was happening to him right now.

“Gran-ger—just—go—to—ugh—common—room,” Ron managed to say as he turned around so she wouldn’t look at him again. He was embarrassed.

“Maybe I can help if you know the reversal spell for this hex,” he heard Hermione say.

“Just—go,” he shouted. He heard footsteps leaving the classroom a minute later. Now, let’s just wait for this hex to wear off.

Hermione Granger 

It had been two days since Ron Weasley got hexed. She hadn’t even seen Weasley since that night. The next day, he didn’t attend any of the classes. Today, as it was a Hogsmeade weekend, she couldn’t see him anywhere in the long queue of students who were waiting to get out of Hogwarts. She was beside Harry, who for some reason was not talking. Harry was a guy who always talked around her. She looked at him and realized he was glaring at someone. She followed his gaze and saw that it was Michael Corner, who was standing beside Ginny Weasley, and they were holding hands. They were now dating in public after her brother caught her in the act, and then yesterday, she had a shouting match with her other brothers, the twins to be specific, in the common room. By the end of the fight, which she won, everybody in Gryffindor house knew Ginny Weasley was dating Michael Corner.

Why was Harry glaring at them, though? Another problem between a Weasley and a Potter, or something else? Before she could dwell on it any longer, she heard her brother say cheekily, “Hermy, it’s time to go.”

“Don’t call me that,” she scolded him and looked at her brother. He was smiling at her, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

After spending an hour or two in the Magical Read, she went to the Three Broomsticks. To her surprise, she saw Harry sitting with Parvati Patil, drinking butterbeer, and chatting animatedly. She was about to go talk to them when she found two people coming beside her, holding each of her arms.

“Dean? Seamus?” she asked, confused.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Seamus replied.

“What’s the matter?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing’s the matter, Hermione. It’s just that we set up Harry and Parvati. Better let them talk,” Dean said as he and Seamus frogmarched her out of the Three Broomsticks.

“You set them up?” she asked them.

“Yes, Harry was a bit sulky today,” Seamus explained. “We thought, let’s do something about it.”

“We saw Parvati sulking too,” Dean continued. “Why not bring two sulky people together to talk?”

“Why were they sulking, though?” Hermione asked as her eyes lingered on the Three Broomsticks’ gate.

“About Harry, we don’t know,” Seamus said, shrugging.

“And Parvati was ditched by Lavender as Lavender found a guy,” Dean added.

“But Parvati... didn’t she dislike Harry?” Hermione asked, perplexed, remembering the last year’s Yule Ball. Harry took her to the ball but spent the entire night sulking and being jealous. At that time, he was interested in Cho Chang, but she was dating Cedric. That whole night, he was glaring daggers at Cedric Diggory. Wait a minute. He was glaring at Michael Corner too. Don’t tell me Harry has a crush on Ginny Weasley now. What’s with Harry pining over taken girls?

“Yes, but we told her that he was sorry and that he had a crush on Cho Chang at that time, so that night was hard for him,” Seamus said with a cheeky grin.

“He was a lonely boy who craved love but hid it behind his macho-best-seeker personality,” Dean added.

“That’s all it took?” Hermione asked, still suspicious.

“Oh, Harry apologizing for his behavior last year sealed the deal,” Seamus said enthusiastically.

“We are the best matchmakers,” Dean said as he high-fived Seamus.

After that very enlightening conversation with both of them, she decided to spend more time in the Magical Read. That was always better than a joke shop, which is where both of them decided to go. She was left with another hour before she had to get back to the castle. She felt nice knowing that at least during this Hogsmeade weekend, she wasn’t on prefect duties, making sure students were going back to Hogwarts. She exited the Magical Read and decided to take a walk before heading back to Hogwarts. She saw a glimpse of red hair, turning into an alley behind a shop. Hoping that it was a certain redhead, she followed. When she got out of the alley, she saw him walking alone in the direction of the Shrieking Shack. Why would he go there? She followed him quietly; he didn’t realize she was following him until he was looking at the haunted house. The Shrieking Shack was on the outskirts of the village. It was on the route between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade; just a little detour between the route brought you to the shack. He turned around and saw her. From his look, he didn’t expect her to follow him. His wand was outstretched, obviously planning on hexing, but as he realized it was her, his shoulders relaxed, and he withdrew his wand, putting it back in his robes.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her, confused by her actions.

“Same as you, to look at one of the most haunted places at Hogwarts,” Hermione replied. She knew what the Shrieking Shack really was. One of the perks of growing up around the Marauders was that you heard a lot of stories; one of them included a certain werewolf spending his nights every month here in the shack.

“Okay. It’s just, I’ve never seen you here, and I’ve always come here every Hogsmeade visit,” Ron explained.

“It’s my second time. I came here before with my brothers and their friends.”

“Okay.”

“Why do you come here on every Hogsmeade visit?” she asked, curious.

“Nothing. Reckon I like the solitude,” he said while kicking a rock. He was being awkward now. Their last interaction before this was horrid. Bats were coming out of his nose, for Merlin’s sake. Hermione was horrified that day and cringed a bit after remembering it. He must’ve seen her cringing, as his ears turned red and he looked anywhere but at her.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell the professor what happened that day? I thought you were going to give me detention for punching a student,” Ron asked.

“You were already given enough punishment,” she answered, “and I didn’t want to tell anybody what happened that day.”

“Could’ve surprised me,” Ron mumbled.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. It’s just, I thought you liked following rules, and according to them, you should’ve given detention to everybody in that room,” Ron explained.

“Is following rules bad?” Hermione inquired with a huff.

“No, it’s not bad,” Ron said. “Never mind, let’s skip this, yeah?”

“Alright, Weasley,” she said. She never liked things being left unsaid. She was going to walk away when she heard him say, “You can call me Ron.”

“What?”

“If you want, you can call me Ron.”

“Um... okay,” she replied, blushing. Why was she feeling nervous now? “You can call me Hermione.”

“Yes. Sure, Hermione,” Ron said with a smile.

..

to be continued

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Ron Weasley

It was Halloween Day, and he always loved the feast. He was ecstatic about the day; not even classes such as Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration could dampen his mood. As usual, he got ready before going down for breakfast. He saw Hermione sitting with Harry in the Great Hall, having her breakfast. He rarely saw her having breakfast, and that only happened when he woke up early; this day was one of those days. She had a newspaper in one hand and bacon in the other. Even at the time of eating, she had to read. At least it was a newspaper—he never understood the appeal of reading it, though. He got some bacon, eggs, and toast for himself and poured a glass of pumpkin juice from the pitcher.

After breakfast, he went to the dungeons; the first class of the day was Potions. Horace Slughorn taught them in that class. He was a jolly fellow who never remembered Ron’s name. After Potions, he had a break for half an hour and a double Transfiguration period before lunch. Later in Charms, he was surprised to see Hermione sitting beside him. The last time she sat beside him on Halloween was in their first year, four years ago. He looked around and saw Harry looking quizzically at Hermione, then glaring at Ron as if daring him to talk to her.

“How’s your day been so far?” Hermione asked him.

“Except for the Potions and Transfiguration classes, everything was great,” replied Ron.

“You mean the food was great,” she said knowingly, and he blushed. She must’ve noticed his table manners and love for food.

“Yes, I have an undying love for food.”

They learned a spell named *Volaris Tempus*, which allows the user to temporarily manipulate time within a small area, speeding up or slowing down the flow of time. Once again, Ron had trouble with the pronunciation. When he looked at Hermione, he felt like an idiot. She was looking at him, but the moment he turned around, she started focusing on pronunciation, obviously doing it slowly for his sake. She didn’t know whether she should help him or not or if he would appreciate the help. So she was trying to do it indirectly. Oh Merlin, this girl. She was infuriating but cute. Cute? Why would he think Hermione Granger was cute?

“Voh-LAH-ris TEM-pus,” she enunciated clearly so he could hear her. Despite learning to pronounce the spell, he didn’t get any results. Only Hermione and that git Michael Corner managed to perform the spell. Ron had to share two classes with Ravenclaws: Charms and History of Magic, and he hated every time he saw that git’s face. When Ron looked at the git, Corner smugly smiled at him. He felt someone touching his forearm.

“Ron, don’t. Ignore him,” Hermione said nervously.

“Easy for you to say. You always manage to do a spell. The same can’t be said about dumb people like me,” he snapped at her. He just grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out of the class. He needed to be away from that class and that git because Ron’s urge to punch him was stronger than ever.

As evening dawned, Ron’s mood got better. He decided to get to the Great Hall, where most of the school was already gathered. He didn’t want to miss the feast. He realized he shouldn’t have behaved that way toward Hermione; she was trying to be his friend and was just being helpful. He had just taken out his anger on Corner on her. He decided to apologize to her. On the way to the Great Hall, he bumped into somebody. “Sorry,” he mumbled. When he turned around he saw the girl was crying and in a hurry to get away from the Great Hall. He noticed that the Halloween decorations were as fascinating as ever: enormous pumpkins—clearly grown by Hagrid—spooky skeletons, and other eerie details scattered around. He looked for Hermione at the Gryffindor table and saw her sitting between Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. She was laughing at something, and Seamus beside her was also laughing. He felt annoyed. Here he thought she might be upset over how he behaved earlier in the afternoon, but she was cheerful as ever. She never laughed like that at his jokes. Maybe she really does think you’re as dumb as a brick, Ron. All this time, her pity and sympathy for you were forcing her to be your friend and be nice to you. She might’ve seen you didn’t have any friends and decided to help the poor loner Ron. He decided to go back to his dorm. The feast be damned.

Hermione Granger

As Hermione was walking alongside her brother Harry to the Great Hall, she kept thinking over and over again about the little argument she had with Ron. She shouldn’t have partnered with him in the lesson, especially on a day like Halloween. On Halloween, it seems like they are always going to clash. She thought this Halloween they both would have a normal lesson. That was until he got angry with Michael Corner. He should not be feeling this way; even if he is being an overprotective brother, he shouldn’t behave like this. His sister is her own person, and she is going to live her life as she pleases. Can’t he just be a little mature about this? Hermione, just forget about him. You have tried to be his friend; if he doesn’t want one, you can’t do anything about it. Against her better judgment, she talked with him in front of Harry, who she knew would not be happy about this situation. Harry did ask her multiple questions about why she sat with that oaf, and she clearly told him it was none of his damn business.

She would think about this later; right now, she just needed to relax and enjoy the feast. She sat at the Gryffindor table and saw Harry being dragged away by Parvati as soon as they entered the Great Hall. Both girls started giggling together when Harry sat beside her. He looked at Hermione sheepishly, apologizing. Soon enough, she was sandwiched between two boys, Dean and Seamus, who were both ranting about ridiculous things with each other. She was stuck between them.

“Wait, wait? What?” she asked Seamus, who had said something utterly ridiculous.

“Nothing, here. Dean was just telling me about his last night’s rendezvous with Ms. Dorthy,” Seamus said, looking suggestively towards Dean.

Dean grinned smugly before saying, “Hermione, we might have said something callous as usual during our very eloquent discussion of certain events of yesterday, so never you mind.”

Hermione knew what she had heard before, and she now felt embarrassed to have interfered with these numbnuts.

“I am warning you two, never discuss your obscene activities around me,” Hermione warned them both. They both smiled sheepishly at her before continuing their rant. Just a couple of minutes later, someone came from behind them and upended their pumpkin juice over Dean’s head. He looked scandalized when he turned around to shout at the guilty party, but he froze. It was Dorthy, his mate from yesterday. She slapped him before walking away. There was pin-drop silence in the Great Hall. No words were exchanged between Dorthy and Dean. The latter looked totally ridiculous as he stood there with his mouth half-open. So many people started laughing, and so did Seamus. She started laughing too. Dean just took his seat again, and Hermione just couldn’t stop laughing; the whole situation was so ridiculous. Here he was being so smug about his obscene activities, and now he was being ridiculed in the Great Hall—instant karma. Everything was as usual in the Great Hall again, except for Dean, whose hair was drenched in pumpkin juice. Hermione said between her laughs, “Karma, Dean—karma.”

During the whole feast, Hermione did try to find a certain redhead at the Gryffindor table, but he was nowhere to be seen. His twin brothers were there, as was Ginny, but it seemed like he didn’t come. That surprised her, as he had just told her that afternoon he loved food more than anything, and he missed a feast—a bloody feast.

As everyone was full of food, Professor Dumbledore started addressing the students.

“A happy Halloween to you all, my dear students, and to my dear staff,” Professor Dumbledore’s calm, firm voice echoed around the Great Hall. “I would like to announce that after all the petitions we received from our students throughout the last two months—and some even in the summer—from all years to host a Yule Ball similar to last year, after long discussions and consideration, we have decided to host the Ball, just like last year, this Christmas.”

So many girls started chattering happily, even first-year girls were looking expectantly at the professor, while the boys were looking apprehensively around them.

“I would suggest you get your robes and dates as soon as possible, but as last year, only fourth years and above are allowed to attend the ball.”

So many groans and “No’s” came from third-year and below girls, while on the other hand, the boys who had lost hope earlier were now happily chattering.

“The ball will be held a day before your term ends. Yes, we are not going to stop you from celebrating Christmas at home for two consecutive years. With that settled, good night.”

A Yule Ball again. It’s not that she didn’t like the idea of attending a dance party where she could feel and breathe like a girl, but she didn’t want such a distraction in her OWL year.

Hermione’s next few days were a little hectic. Just two days after Halloween, after Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall asked Hermione to grade first and second-year tests in the evening. She couldn’t say no to her. But after agreeing with the Professor, she remembered she had Prefect duties that evening. She sent a note to Ron, letting him know she was busy helping McGonagall. The next day, she was buried in catching up on her pending classwork. Then the weekend started, and Ron and she were not on any Prefect duties. This Sunday, it was the first Quidditch match of the season between Gryffindor and Slytherin, scheduled for the first Sunday of November. Usually, it took place on the third Sunday in previous years.

She sat with Dean and Seamus in the stands, both of them loudly shouting, “Gryffindor! Gryffindor!” She saw Ron’s red hair just a few steps below her; he was attending the match for his brother and sister. Soon enough, Parvati and Lavender came and sat beside them, Parvati shouting, “MY BOYFRIEND IS THE BEST SEEKER!”

Parvati had been stuck with her brother for the last two weeks since that Three Broomsticks meeting; she had even seen them snogging multiple times now, and she didn’t like the sight. Nobody likes seeing their siblings in action. At least Harry was somewhat happy; she knew he still got moody whenever he saw Ginny, but maybe with Parvati around him for some time, he would forget about his crush on Ginny Weasley.

The Gryffindor team came out a couple of minutes later. She saw Harry on his Firebolt, flying a lap around the stadium with his team flying behind him. It looked like McLaggen was trying to overtake Harry; he managed to do so as Harry was going at a slower pace, and McLaggen behaved like it was some kind of race. McLaggen was enthusiastically waving his arms and shouting, “Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

Harry looked a bit angry at McLaggen but just focused on beckoning the rest of his team to make a huddle. Soon enough, McLaggen joined them. Next, the Slytherin team entered, doing the same thing as Gryffindor but throwing a lot of insults at the Gryffindor team. Draco Malfoy was the Seeker for the team.

Soon enough, the whistle rang in the stadium, and the match began. Gryffindor’s Chasers were on another level; Angelina, Katie, and Ginny worked quite well together. They managed to anticipate each other well enough to score four more goals than Slytherin. The twins, as always, were fast and durable enough. Slytherin’s Chasers were ruthless, but they didn’t work quite as well as Gryffindor’s. Malfoy was tailing Harry. The only problem with Gryffindor was McLaggen. Instead of focusing on what he was supposed to do, he was shouting at the Chasers or sometimes the Beaters to try this or try that. When Ginny missed a goal, it looked like McLaggen planned on flying over to scold her. At that moment, Slytherin scored a goal. After this, McLaggen did fly to Ginny to scold her for not playing well enough. At that very moment, the twins came flying down on McLaggen to beat the crap out of him. Slytherin scored another goal on the empty goalposts. Harry had to come down and separate the Weasleys from McLaggen.

Slytherin was now leading 100-70, taking advantage of the whole situation. When Harry managed to take McLaggen back to his goalpost, he shouted something at him. McLaggen looked like he was contemplating something.

Harry flew back to the twins, who, instead of getting back to the game, were giving murderous looks to McLaggen. Then it looked like McLaggen shouted something at the three of them, and one of the twins threw his Beater’s bat at McLaggen. It happened so fast that one moment the bat was in George or Fred’s hand, and the next it was connecting with the head of McLaggen.

After the match, let’s just say Gryffindor was lucky enough to win. McLaggen was taken to the infirmary, most likely with an open skull. Later, she came to know that it was George Weasley who attacked McLaggen. He had to stop playing, and his brother wanted to follow him, but his sister begged him to play, so he decided to continue instead of forfeiting. The match was painful to watch as Gryffindor was two players short. Angelina decided to play Keeper for the rest of the match. When the match resumed after the stoppage of play, Gryffindor played with two Chasers and one Beater, with the score in favor of Slytherin 140-80.

Gryffindor only won by a margin of 10 as Harry managed to catch the Snitch, making the final score Gryffindor 280-270.

Ron Weasley

The match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was incredible to watch today. Instead of Slytherin trying to sabotage Gryffindor’s game, McLaggen did it himself. That guy was ridiculous. Ron tried to hear what they were shouting at each other, but it was hard to listen as there was quite a distance between them. But when that git flew to his sister, his blood boiled. He would’ve jumped and summoned his broom to beat the shit out of McLaggen. From his brother’s reaction, it did look like McLaggen said something insulting. After the game, he saw his twin brothers in the common room, and the news was already everywhere that George was in detention until Christmas break. Professor McGonagall disqualified him from the team.

“That’s ridiculous! McGonagall can’t stop you from playing,” Ron shouted at his brother.

“Dear Ronnykins, that’s old McGonagall. She can do anything,” Fred said.

“At least you’re still playing,” Ron said.

“I tried to get out of the team too. Playing without George as Beater won’t be fun. But she just berated me over this, saying Nonsense she is not losing two brilliant players in one go,” Fred said, reminiscing about his conversation.

“What did that git say anyway? Did he insult Ginny?” Ron asked.

“He called her a slut, and I paid him back in kind,” George said, coming out of his thoughts.

“I’ll kill that bastard!” Ron said, seething in anger.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Ronnykins,” George said, smiling. “We don’t want to send your Christmas presents to Azkaban.”

“Don’t you worry, little brother. MacLaggen doesn’t know what’s coming for him,” said Fred, smiling evilly. That look they were giving him right now always scared him. MacLaggen, you don’t know what you’ve done. Insulting one of us is one thing, but we Weasleys don’t show mercy to those who mess with their sister.

The next few days went by in a blur for Ron. He mostly spent his time doing homework or playing chess by himself in a corner. He had already seen a notice on the board announcing the Yule Ball this year, just like the last one. Now he was supposed to suffer the trouble of finding a girl again. Last year, he went stag. He couldn’t really ask anybody for a date, so this year, he might as well go stag again. As he completed one of his chess games, someone came and sat in front of him. He looked up and realized it was Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger

After the match in the evening, Hermione found herself in Harry’s dormitory, where he was pacing around.

“Will you stop? And talk,” Hermione said. It had been ten minutes since Harry started pacing around after the match they barely won. Parvati obviously wanted to celebrate with her boyfriend, but he only had eyes for Hermione and dragged her here.

“Just a lot of thoughts. I don’t know where to start,” Harry said wearily. He looked tired as he sat beside her on his bed.

“About Ginny? MacLaggen?” Hermione suggested.

“You know about Ginny?” Harry asked, surprised.

“You’re my brother, do you think I wouldn’t notice? You’ve been eyeing Ginny Weasley.”

“Parvati doesn’t.”

“First, she isn’t your sister; second, you weren’t eyeing Ginny as much as you used to because you were busy, ah, kissing Parvati,” Hermione reasoned.

“I told Parvati I wanted a slow and casual relationship, and she agreed because having feelings for another makes me feel like a cheater,” Harry said, looking frustrated.

“But she thinks it’s serious,” Hermione pointed out.

“Yeah, I know that now, but it feels like if I let her go, I’ll just mope around for Ginny,” Harry cringed. She patted him on the back, and then they sat in silence for a minute or so before Harry asked, “What about you and Weasley, Ron? I saw the two of you talking.”

“Yes. Talking to him, just being nice to him because he seems like a nice guy,” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. That’s a typical question from her brother; he had already asked her this multiple times, but she would just clear the air.

“What about when he insulted you?” Harry pointed out.

“That was ages ago. We were eleven years old at the time. I’m not going to hold that against him,” Hermione answered. “Our parents taught us not to hold grudges, Harry.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry conceded, “but if he hurts you in any way, I’ll beat the crap out of him.”

Hermione looked incredulous, but she just shook her head and said, “Now, about Ginny?”

“I may or may not fancy her,” Harry confessed.

“Oh, Harry—what do you plan on doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay,” Hermione said. She didn’t know what to say; she could only comfort her brother. Ginny was already in a relationship; Harry pursuing her right now would only bring misery.

“MacLaggen?” Hermione asked, wondering about the fate of the Keeper.

“That git is out,” Harry said angrily. “That jerk has been getting on my nerves since he joined the team, and today you saw how he butchered the entire game. He was insulting everybody. I’m glad that bastard got smacked in the head.”

She didn’t admonish him for his crude language. MacLaggen was out of line in the match; he should’ve just played his part instead of running around and shouting at everybody.

“Your team is without a Keeper now,” Hermione stated.

“Yes, and most likely two Beaters.”

“Oh, but only one of them acted violently.”

“Yeah, but aren’t those two supposed to come as a pair?”

“Yeah, you’re perhaps right,” Hermione said. “I would suggest you get Ron on the team.”

“It’s Ron now?” Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

“Harry, he and I are friends. You’d better start accepting that,” she said with a glare. At the moment, she didn’t know where she stood with Ronald Weasley; after all, their last conversation ended terribly.

“Okay, okay,” Harry said. “But Weasley played well enough in the tryouts. Still, he was nervous. If he gets nervous during a match, he won’t be any good for the team.”

“He has to work on his nerves, but he can do that in the given amount of time. Your next match is most likely around Easter,” Hermione said. “He’s got Weasley blood. Half your team is made up of them.”

“Yes. Let’s hope that Weasley blood works. Otherwise, I’m doomed,” Harry sighed.

A couple of days later, Hermione returned to the common room after spending four hours in the library. Her brother had to bring her something to eat for dinner, and she was grateful to him. He always took care of her, even when she didn’t take care of herself. He was still with Parvati, and it looked like they had some kind of talk, and she seemed to agree to it.

She saw Ron in one of the corners, hunched over something. She had seen him before in that spot, playing chess by himself. She decided to talk to him; she needed to thank him as she had to ditch her last patrol, and he didn’t complain.

She sat in the empty chair across from him. The chess set he was playing on was old and battered, and it looked like the game had just ended when she arrived. He looked up to see her; it was the first time she really noticed the vivid blue color of his eyes.

“Thanks for last time, doing patrol on your own. I was helping Professor McGonagall that evening,” Hermione said. She scolded herself for that day when her favorite professor asked her for help. She jumped at the chance without even realizing she was supposed to be on patrol that evening. The professor did ask her if she had somewhere else to be, but she lied. She had already agreed to help her, so how could she go back on her word and tell her favorite professor she forgot about her duties as a prefect while agreeing to the request?

“Um—okay. Your note explained it,” Ron stammered. Why was he stammering?

“Okay,” said Hermione. She was about to stand up when she heard him say, “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“For snapping at you.”

“Oh—it’s alright.”

“And I am sorry—”

“Um, you don’t have to apologize twice,” Hermione said, confused.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you on Halloween in our first year,” Ron explained.

“Oh—okay. Then I’m sorry too for coming across as bossy and condescending. It wasn’t on purpose; I was just trying to help,” Hermione admitted.

“Oh—it’s alright,” said Ron Looking relievd “You realized that?”

“Yes, I mean. People have told me that I can be bossy,” Hermione stated Looking a bit embarrassed.

“You’re not bossy—I mean, kind of bossy, but not in the wrong way,” Ron rambled.

“It’s alright, Ron. I know I can be overbearing,” Hermione said, smiling lightly.

“You’re not overbearing.”

“I am, Ron. People tell me—”

“People are full of shite—”

“Language, Ron.”

“My point is, you’re not overbearing, and people don’t know you. Don’t listen to them.”

“It’s kind of you to say that, Ron,” Hermione smiled sadly, “but I know I can be overbearing.”

“Hermione, you’re not overbearing. That’s being passionate,” Ron said, exasperated. Hermione just looked at him. Was he getting frustrated because she was calling herself overbearing?

“Um, okay,” she agreed with him. She didn’t believe him, but she didn’t want to argue.

“Want to play a game?” Ron asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

“Alright.”

Hermione never expected him to be this good. She played five games against him, and she lost every single one of them in thirty minutes. She had played chess loads of times. Her father was one of the best players she had ever known. He came across as a prankster and a funny guy, but he was ruthless when it came to chess, and she got the same energy from Ron.

“That—that was—”

“Unbelievable?”

“No, I just don’t like losing,” Hermione smiled at him.

“Don’t be so disappointed. It’s not easy to win against me,” Ron said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m glad to know I was able to stroke your ego a bit by losing,” Hermione joked with a light laugh.

“Five times in a row.”

“At least now I know why you always play by yourself. Your siblings must know by now that winning against you is impossible, right?” Hermione hypothesized.

“You’re very right about that,” Ron replied. “Only my brother Charlie is the second best at chess in my family, and he last won against me when I was ten.”

“My father is one of the best players I know. I can bet you that he would win against you,” Hermione told him.

“I would very much like for him to try,” Ron replied, smiling cheekily.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Ron Weasley

Since he has played that chess game with Hermione they both have been nothing but good terms. This is how is rest of the November went like, he patrolled corridors with her, they both argued a bit but it was fun. He liked being in a debate with her over anything, sometime even fought over ridiculous things. She sometimes even sat beside him during classes. Mostly in Charms classes, her friends glared at him, One day he saw glaring back at them. MacLaggen even after getting out of infirmary in a couple of days found himself back their because of so many unexplained things which happened around him like him sprouting a pig’s tail, or his legs shirking or one day all of his cloths disappearing a lot of things have happened with him. He always blamed the twins and teachers also suspected twins but there was no evidence or witness. They always seemed to have an alibi.

On the first day of December he found himself in the Library once again, after a couple of minutes searching, he found her surrounded by books sitting in a corner table which mostly hidden.

“Hello” He said to get her attention. She looked up and smiled at him, motioning him to sit from across her. She was busy writing something on the parchment, after a minute. She out her quill down and stretched her hands a bit before saying “Hello”

“You missed Dinner.” Ron said as he passed her, the sandwich and chicken roll he brought her in the napkin.

“Oh – Thanks” she looked startled by his gesture. He smiled sheepishly at her. He has seen her more than once skipping dinner but he also noticed Potter putting food in a napkin which he took himself.

But tonight she as usual was not there but neither was potter. So Ron realised Hermione might be starving and a growing girl needs food right. So he brought her some.

“Did you ask potter to get me on the team?” Ron asked, yesterday evening potter ambushed him out of nowhere and asked him to be on the team, Ron flat out refused. Potter just simply looked at him and said “think over it. Yeah?”

“No – I didn’t ask him anything of that kind” Hermione denied “ We talked about Quidditch – Believe my I have no interest in that horrid game-

“Oye- it’s not horrid. It’s the best game” Ron looked offended

“Yes Ron it’s the best game – didn’t you see that day how barbaric it got” Hermione retorted

“That’s part of the game. Remember there was a git who was behaving like a jerk”

“Yes. I know it doesn’t mean you crack a skull open of somebody”

“If that somebody is Maclaggen sure you can” Ron snapped

“Really you endorse violence then?” Hermione asked

“I don’t want violence Hermione. But if some jerk is insulting somebody I love. I will beat the crap out of them” Ron replied

“Okay. It’s alright” Hermione sighed. This one barmy girl is driving him mad for some reason.

“Yes. Alright you should eat” Ron said, and Hermione munched on her food, she ate slowly. She only took small bites out of her food it took her almost around ten minutes to eat her roll and sandwich, while eating she read. Why the bloody hell Ron watched her eating, why he was feeling eat behind his ears. Once Hermione was finished she looked calmed.

“Did you say yes to Harry?” Hermione asked

“No. I didn’t” Ron said

“Why? I thought you wanted to play” Hermione asked confused

“I did. I do but I’m not team material, you saw my trails. It’s not like I’m the first choice” Ron said rubbing his neck

“Yes I saw your trails and you were third best in it” Hermione said “ You saved 5 out of 7, same as Timber and MacLaggen scored better than you”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about” he grumbled

“Let me finish – You were third best in the trails because you were nervous. Timber and Mclaggen were not” Hermione continued “And I think with practice and getting control of your nerves will make you a better player”

“You saw that I was nervous” Ron asked

“Yes – I was a far from you but you looked nervous up there it was quite visible” Hermione replied

“See, that’s not why I’ll be shite at it”

“Language Ron – and no you won’t be bad at it” Hermione said a bit forcefully so it gets through the thick skull of his “Just join the team with practice you will gain the confidence and will become a better – better than MacLaggen”

“Hermione, I don’t think that’s possible”

“It is quite possible Ronald, if you try” Hermione said glaring at him “ Why are you being so hard on yourself. If anything I see that if you gain enough confidence because you have the skills Ron you just need to polish them – but more confidence you will become the best Kepeer Gryffindor has have seen. Maybe even better than Oliver wood”

“Oliver was one of a kind, Hermione” Ron retorted “and I couldn’t even beat Maclaggen”

“Ronald Weasley will you please just try?” Hermione snapped “Show yourself some trust and do it.” But before Ron could say anything Hermione has already packed her books and with a wave of her wand the library’s books were in their shelves, with her bag on her shoulders she walked away.

Ron was left in the corner with himself, Hermione flew out of there like a Dementor was chasing her. She doesn’t know. He did try against his better judgment, to try out for the team, he didn’t make it. Now she is telling him to be confident how can he be, when he knows he is rubbish. You’ve got skills, you can be the best keeper, you just have to believe in yourself, why can’t you just try, don’t be so hard on yourself, just gain some confident her voice was ringing in his head after seeing him like this she must’ve realised that he is a spineless sore loser. Her opinion doesn’t matter. Really? Why does he care? Why he even brought her food? Why he is keep on noticing his absence not just her but the people’ she associates with, how does he know she is in the library skipping her food. Why does he give her this much attention. Oh who is lying he knows this answer to all of these questions. Hermione Granger has got his attention because he is attracted to her. She was the first girl that came into his head when a month ago he saw the notice for Yule ball. He even dreamt of asking her and her saying yes. In reality she will never say yes to you. You are a loser in her eyes and you just proved that today. You disappointed her. No you can’t be attracted to her she is a potter but no she is a Granger. No she lives with them, she is one of them. Who cares?

Hermione Granger

Why can’t he just trust himself? Hermione thought as she walked out of the library. She bumped into Harry.

“Oh, Hermione – I’m sorry I lost track of time,” Harry said. She saw, as always, he was bringing her food.

“It’s alright. Let’s go to our dormitory,” Hermione said. She smiled at her brother. The very same gesture was done by Ron today. He must’ve realized that she wasn’t usually in the Great Hall having dinner and came to give her some food. *That prat can be so thoughtful and sweet, why can’t he see it himself, though?*

As Harry and Hermione got back to their common room, she saw Neville approaching them.

“C-can I talk to you for a minute, Hermione?” Neville asked timidly, not meeting her eyes. She looked at Harry, who just shrugged and left them.

“Yes, Neville?” she said.

“Would you like to go to the ball with me?” Neville asked, his voice a bit too high-pitched. Neville made her remember last year—he had asked her in a very similar manner for the last Yule Ball, but as she had already got a date, she had to say no. This time she was dateless and would most likely stay that way. It’s better to go with a friendly face than with no one at all.

“Okay,” Hermione said. Neville smiled, some color returning to his face, and shyly said, “Oh, thank God. I thought you were going to say no, like last year.”

“Last year, I was already asked before you. This year, you’re the first one to ask,” Hermione replied. Neville looked pleased with himself as he said goodbye. She went to her dormitory to take a shower, did her revision for the next day’s lessons (which she had already revised at the beginning of the year), and went to bed.

The next day, she woke up to the sound of her alarm. Parvati and Lavender were still in bed, but they were up by the time Hermione was putting on her school robes. She said good morning to both of them as she left the dorms. She found Harry and his two grumpy friends in the common room.

“How come these two are awake?” Hermione asked, surprised to see them up and about this early. Harry and Hermione were early risers, a habit from living with Lily Potter. Her father, though, always complained about it.

“They’re half awake,” Harry said. Both of them mumbled, “Morning,” while yawning.

“But still, why?” Hermione asked.

“I’m taking them to play as Beater and Keeper,” Harry said.

“Oh – so Ron said no, then?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, he did. I told him to consider it, though.”

“Okay, then why drag them?”

“I still need a backup. If Weasley plays Keeper well, at least I won’t have to suffer one of these lazy arses,” Harry explained.

“Yeah, alright. Good luck, Harry,” Hermione said. She knew how her brother was when it came to Quidditch—he was a fanatic. It was better not to argue with him. He had four months until the next match, after all.

She walked to the Great Hall as her brother dragged his friends to the Quidditch grounds, both of them whining about food. After finishing her toast and reading the newspaper, she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She turned around and saw Ron Weasley.

“Morning,” he mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes.

“Morning, why don’t you sit?” Hermione said. Ron took the seat beside her. He grabbed a toast or two and then said, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“Why would you be? I was the one who shouted. I should be sorry,” Hermione said. It was her who had been annoyed over his unwillingness to do something. She would’ve never forced anyone to play Quidditch, but she had forced him yesterday, just because she wanted him to gain confidence and know his worth.

“But I was being a coward—”

“You weren’t being a coward. You were just nervous,” she berated him.

“I made it a big deal when it isn’t. My brothers are never nervous, even my sister wasn’t. She played like a professional. And here I am, a nervous wreck,” Ron said.

“Ron, why are you comparing yourself to your brothers? Can your brothers man up and beat you in a chess match? Maybe man up, but beat you? No. And you know that,” Hermione fired back.

“I’m good at chess, but I’m not good at Quidditch,” Ron said, sounding detached.

“Ron, yes, you’re good at chess, but when it comes to chess, you’re focused, determined, and confident. That’s why you win. You’re good at Quidditch too. You just need to play it like you play chess,” Hermione said, trying to drill it into his head.

“Hermione, there are a lot of people watching—”

“Who cares? Let them watch. Just try, Ron, okay? Just try. Trust yourself, and maybe you’ll find something new about yourself.” Hermione said, touching his hand. He looked at her with hopeful eyes and nodded. “I will try.”

“Good. Now, you should have your breakfast,” Hermione said happily.

She felt happy enough for the rest of the day, and everything went perfectly. Evening came, and she found herself in the Meeting Room. A meeting was held between the Head Boy, Head Girl, and Prefects in preparation for the Yule Ball. The prefects met monthly with the Heads to discuss the schedule and duties for the upcoming month. This meeting was specifically about the Yule Ball. She was among the first to arrive, and soon enough, Christine Blandworth and Alexander Worinson arrived together, followed by Ron, who sat beside her. At least he was on time.

“You were all given your schedules for this month in our last meeting,” Christine began. “This meeting is about the upcoming Yule Ball, which will be hosted in the Great Hall on the evening of December 17th. On December 18th, the term will end, and the winter break will begin.”

“Now, since this Yule Ball is being hosted purely because of the persistence of the student body—who badgered our Heads of Houses and Headmaster with letter after letter to host a Ball—our professors have asked us to perform certain duties during the Ball,” Alexander continued. “These duties include helping with the decorations and making sure students are not out of bounds. Now, you may be wondering, ‘What about your dates?’ You can enjoy the Ball as much as you want. We only ask that you perform your duties right before the dance starts.”

“After that, any misbehavior or rule-breaking will be handled by the professors and us,” Christine added, gesturing to herself and Alexander. “You can enjoy the rest of the evening with your plus-ones.”

After the meeting, Hermione and Ron walked back to the common room together.

“Do you have a date for the Ball?” Ron asked.

“Yes, I’m going with Neville,” she replied absentmindedly, already thinking about how she would have to get ready early and help discipline misbehaving students. This was going to be ridiculous. She’d also have to let Neville know she would meet him directly in the Great Hall.

“Okay.”

“Who are you going with?” Hermione asked, curious. She didn’t remember seeing him at the last Ball.

“No one,” Ron replied nonchalantly.

“Oh – why?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know. There’s no one I like, and really, I don’t have many friends,” Ron confessed.

“Yeah – okay,” she replied timidly, unsure of what to say.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Ron Weasley

With just a week to go until the Yule Ball and still dateless, it wasn’t like Ron was really trying. He could go on his own, and at least he wouldn’t be free. Before the Ball even started, he’d be busy with his prefect duties, and during the event, he could focus more on food and drinks than anything else. It wasn’t as though he liked dancing or anything. With that thought in mind, he was trying to work on his assignment when his sister Ginny suddenly appeared and sat in front of him.

“Have you asked someone to the Yule Ball?” Ginny asked.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me?” Ron asked, taken aback. She was never the first one to talk. He had already apologized to her, but she didn’t seem to like his apologies, maybe because they had included certain underlying threats.

“You don’t want to talk? Okay,” Ginny said as she started to stand up.

“No—I mean—I haven’t asked anybody,” Ron said as he frantically gestured for her to sit. She smirked at him as she sat down.

“Why not? Don’t you have anybody you like?” Ginny asked, not unkindly. He just shook his head and replied sharply, “No. I don’t plan on snogging people in empty classrooms.”

“You’re going to take this to your grave, aren’t you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and glaring.

“Yeah, because I don’t like that,” Ron said.

“Oh, Ron, when a girl agrees to snog you back, you’ll certainly like it,” she taunted him. “See, I like boys, and right now, I’m doing something about it.”

“Having fun in empty classrooms, but I don’t like seeing my sister getting groped,” Ron snapped.

“You didn’t see us do anything,” Ginny said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, okay. I don’t want to talk about it,” Ron said.

“You’re the one who brought it up in this conversation,” Ginny snarled.

“Alright,” Ron said. “What did you want from me?”

“I was here to help you get someone for the Ball, but since you’re being tactless,” Ginny snapped, “you’ll be fine being alone like last Yule Ball.” With that, Ginny stood up and went up to her dormitory. As she left, Hermione came down for their patrol—he had almost forgotten about that. She was just walking toward him when someone stopped her. It was Neville Longbottom. They talked for a moment, and when they finished, Hermione had a huge grin on her face, which Neville shared. She came over to Ron and said, “Let’s go.”

“Yes. What did Neville say to you that’s making you smile like that?” Ron asked, curious.

“Nothing,” she said, but as she said that, he could see her blush as she walked a few steps ahead of him.

“It wasn’t nothing,” Ron pressed. For some reason, he wanted to know, but at the same time, he didn’t.

“Um—okay, you know he and I are going to the Yule Ball together,” she started. After he nodded, she continued, “There’s a Hogsmeade visit just two days before the Ball,” and he nodded again. “Neville asked me to spend the whole visit with him shopping,” she finished, blushing. Why was she blushing?

“Um—okay, as in a date?” he asked. She looked at him as if he were silly, but he could see her blush even harder as she said, “Might be—I mean, we were going as friends to the Ball, but now he wants to go to Hogsmeade together and spend the whole day. He emphasized the word ‘whole’ to me—he’s never been that daring.”

“Okay—just make sure I don’t catch you and Longbottom in an empty classroom snogging,” he joked, and she called him a prat. But he felt anger. Anger toward Longbottom—why was he feeling angry? Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Ron, just a few days ago, you admitted to yourself that you were attracted to Granger. What else? He heard the voice in his head again. But I don’t want to be, he thought to himself. Seriously, look at her, the voice said again, and he complied. She was apprehensively checking a broom closet that was making a noise. When it turned out to be empty, she looked so relieved and so cute with that small smile. She turned to look at him, and her eyes were shining. Get a grip on yourself, Ron. Don’t drool over Granger, he thought. For the rest of the patrol, he didn’t look at Hermione much and didn’t try to talk to her. He just responded whenever she said something, trying to seem normal, though he felt anything but normal.

When the patrol ended, he was lucky to find Ginny sitting with his brother because he needed to talk to her.

“Ginny, I want to—”

“Get lost, Ron,” she cut him off.

“Please, I’m sorry,” he said as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the common room. Of course, hearing him say “please,” which rarely happened, she reluctantly let him drag her. He found an empty classroom.

“Finally decided you don’t want to go alone?” Ginny said smugly.

“How do you—never mind. Get me a date,” Ron said. He was in deep trouble, and he thought maybe finding someone more attractive than Hermione would help. There were plenty of girls more attractive than her, with better, less bushy hair.

“I was waiting for you in the common room for this very reason. I knew after your patrol you’d look for me,” Ginny said with a smirk.

“Okay, Ginny. You’re great. Now, who do you have in mind?” he said absentmindedly.

“First, say, ‘Please, Ginny, help me,’ and add a bit of desperation in your voice,” Ginny said with a glint in her eyes. Oh, she was enjoying this. Fine, enjoy.

“Alright. Please, Ginny, help me. I need a date. I don’t want to go alone,” Ron said with a tight smile. To show his desperation, he emphasized the word “alone.”

“Good, good. I have someone special in mind. If you hurt her in any way, Ronald, you will wish you were dead,” Ginny said, adding a glare with her last sentence. Ron nodded. At that moment, he was desperate, so he agreed. He wanted to get Granger out of his mind. So he agreed to whoever Ginny had in mind. His sister couldn’t be that ruthless. And no girl could be that bad, right? Except maybe one or two.

Hermione Granger

Just two more days until the term ended. Hermione had already received most of her grades from the last assignments and tests of the semester, and they were as expected—except for the Charms assignment where she had forgotten to write one of the side effects of a charm when performed incorrectly. Later, when she talked to Professor Flitwick about it, he told her not to fret, as most of the students hadn’t even remembered to write one side effect, whereas she had written four out of the five. Missing one hadn’t lowered her grade below “Outstanding,” but she was still upset about forgetting something. *What if I forget like this in my OWL exams?* she worried. Those examiners wouldn’t be as lenient as Professor Flitwick.

As she was musing over her Transfiguration test, whose grades were yet to be handed out, Professor McGonagall had reassured her by saying she was the best in her class, which eased her worries a bit. Just then, someone tapped her on the shoulder. It was Neville, wearing a yellow jumper that looked cute on him. She herself was wearing a yellowish jumper, so now they were in matching outfits.

Today was the day she was supposed to spend with Neville. She had been waiting for him to show up in the Great Hall, along with everyone else who was visiting Hogsmeade. Harry had already gone with Parvati and Lavender. Seamus and Dean had left together. She even saw Ron, whom she waved at. He waved back nervously before a blonde girl joined him and Ginny. The three of them left together. When Neville arrived and greeted her with a “Good morning,” she smiled and left with him.

It was afternoon by the time they were enjoying butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks when Ron and the same blonde girl from earlier came in, followed by Ginny. Ron looked awkward, the blonde girl excited, and Ginny was watching her brother like a hawk. Ron said something to his sister, who made a rude gesture at him. Ginny found a table right beside Hermione and Neville’s. Ginny caught Hermione staring at her, causing Hermione to quickly avert her eyes. She saw Neville looking at her confused, but before she could say anything, Ginny plopped down in the chair next to her.

“Something on my face?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione laughed nervously. “I wasn’t trying to stare—sorry.”

“Yeah, alright. By the way, thanks for not ratting me out the other day,” Ginny said casually.

“I didn’t ‘rat you out,’ as you put it. But you were being totally irresponsible that day,” Hermione said, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, about what exactly? The kissing, or hexing my brother?” Ginny asked, clearly curious.

“Both, actually. No, I don’t have any problem with you kissing anybody—I’m not your brother,” she said, her voice now adopting a businesslike tone as she glanced over at Ron, who was standing at the bar counter, staring open-mouthed at the blonde girl. “But you were out after curfew, and hexing your brother—or anyone, really—is against the rules.”

“Alright, I concede the first point. I’ll be more careful,” Ginny said, although Hermione suspected she meant she’d be more careful about not getting caught. “As for the second, my brother was behaving like an ignoramus and embarrassed me. I just got too angry.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hermione replied. She vividly remembered how furious Ginny had been that day. She was thankful that Ron still had all his limbs attached after that incident.

As Hermione was about to say more, Ron and the blonde girl approached the table. The blonde girl instantly sat down next to Neville, who was silently watching the scene unfold. Ron stood beside the table awkwardly until Ginny stood up and told him to sit in her spot. He glared at her before sitting down, while Ginny fetched another chair and sat down herself. The blonde girl was sipping a drink Hermione couldn’t identify.

“Hello, I’m Luna,” the girl said cheerfully, waving at everyone. She nearly poked Neville in the eye with her enthusiastic gesture, and he yelped in surprise. Hermione saw Ron sinking deeper into his chair. Luna then finished excitedly, “I’m Ron’s date for the Ball, of course!”

*Ron has a date?* Hermione thought, her surprise barely hidden. *But he said he didn’t like anyone and wasn’t going to ask anybody.* Yet here was this girl, clearly excited to go with him. Maybe she liked him back? Ginny was beaming at Luna like a proud mother, and Neville was looking at Hermione with a confused expression, silently asking, *What’s happening?* Meanwhile, Ron awkwardly sipped his butterbeer.

“Hello, Luna. I’m Hermione Granger,” Hermione said kindly, extending her hand. Luna took it eagerly, shaking it so hard that Hermione instantly regretted the gesture.

Ginny, watching the scene with amusement, remarked, “Ron, if you sink any lower, you might end up on the floor.”

Luna burst into hysterical laughter, drawing everyone’s attention in the bar. Ron sat up straight, glaring at his sister.

To steer the conversation away from Ginny’s teasing, Hermione asked, “Luna, you and Ginny are in the same year?”

“Yes! I’m in Ravenclaw. But I wish I were a Gryffindor. It would’ve been fun knowing you all since first year,” Luna replied. Hermione was about to respond when she noticed her brother and his friends entering the Three Broomsticks.

She saw her brother finding her in the Broomsticks and making a beeline toward her, but he abruptly stopped when he saw Ginny sitting there. Ginny, following Hermione’s gaze, looked at Harry, who looked like he had seen a ghost. He grabbed his friends by the collars and fled the place. Hermione then looked at Ginny, who had a strange expression as she stared at her Butterbeer. Then she heard Ron say, “Why did Potter flee like he saw a Dementor?”

Ron Weasley.

Ron Weasley stood in the Great Hall as people, after breakfast, were meeting up with whoever they were going to leave with for the Hogsmeade visit of the day. His sister had asked him to meet her in the Great Hall, as she would bring whoever she was bringing. He had tried to find out who the girl was, but she just smiled at him before disappearing. At least now he would know who that girl was. In two days’ time, he would be done with this whole drama. Soon enough, he felt someone watching him and found Hermione awkwardly waving at him. He returned the gesture and was about to go to her and talk when he was ambushed by a blonde who said, “Hello, Ron.” He looked at the girl and realized who it was. He saw his sister just a few steps behind Luna, glaring at him to avoid doing anything stupid. He just gulped before nervously smiling at Luna and saying, “Yeah. Hello, Luna.” He swore he was going to kill his sister one day; she was their house’s little princess, but he had had enough of her. He was going to smother her in her sleep—Loony Lovegood of all people.

His day was, let’s just say, awkward and embarrassing. Luna was enthusiastic and excited about everything; she was also weird about a lot of things. She said random stuff all the time and just talked a lot. He could see why Ginny liked hanging around her. But he could also see that Ginny knew he was miserable and was enjoying his discomfort. Around mid-afternoon, he found himself going into the Three Broomsticks with Luna and Ginny. As they were ordering drinks, he saw Hermione with Neville. He instantly looked at his sister and asked, “It’s not that I want you to spend time with him, but why aren’t you with your boyfriend?” She just showed him a finger before walking away. Yeah, right. He looked back at Luna, who was still ordering whatever she was ordering. He saw Madam Rosmerta chuckling at something Luna said and tried to listen in on their conversation.

“… I don’t want my husbands to have so many shrivelling snails buzzing around his ears; that’s what makes people a bit annoying,” Luna said matter-of-factly.

“Isn’t there any cure for it?” Madam Rosmerta asked, clearly indulging in Luna’s conversation.

“No, there isn’t one, except finding another one with shrivelling snails around them; both of them will cancel each other out,” Luna replied. Madam Rosmerta nodded as she ground something in a bowl.

“It’s not like I have to marry Ron. Only a date is enough; I can tolerate these snails for that long,” Luna said as she sneaked a glance at him. He realized he was staring open-mouthed at her because of her weird conversation. He quickly averted his eyes, trying to find Ginny, who was talking to Hermione of all people. Ugh, my sister.

“Here,” he heard Madam Rosmerta say as she handed a glass full of Butterbeer to Luna. “Now it’s mixed with beetroot paste. I had to summon them just for you.”

“Thanks,” Luna said as she turned around. Ron took his glass from Madam Rosmerta before turning around and saw Luna walking to Hermione’s table. Oh Merlin, he was going to die. When he reached the table, he saw his sister leaving the seat beside Hermione. Of course, she wanted him to sit there. Luna took a seat beside Neville, who looked awkward and confused. He felt a bit better knowing he was ruining the date; it shouldn’t matter to him. Yes, Luna being Luna and his sister being his sister made him wish the ground would open up and swallow him. Luna almost poked Neville in the eye; then she almost took Hermione’s arm. She laughed like a maniac when his sister made a joke about him. Then he saw Potter and his friends entering the Broomsticks. All of them made a beeline for their table, with Potter looking weirdly at the table.

Then Potter’s face looked like he had seen something scary. He instantly grabbed his friends by their collars and fled the scene. He looked at Hermione, who was looking at Ginny. He asked, “Why did Potter flee like he saw a Dementor?”

“Maybe he saw one,” Hermione replied while sipping her Butterbeer. It seemed that at that very moment, Neville regained his voice. “Hermione, I almost forgot that I needed to buy a supplementary book—um, for magical plants sprouting twin roots and sprouting in the ground. I need to buy that book. Can we go?”

Hermione looked confused, but it was Ginny who answered. “You can use the owl post or go later. Enjoy your drinks.”

“I can, but it’s a limited edition. I don’t know if there will be any left if I go later,” he nervously replied.

“I don’t think anyone is that interested in a plant book. There will be plenty left even by next year,” Ginny insisted, annoyed at Neville for some reason, who timidly nodded. But he knew Hermione’s love for books was different, and if another soul showed the same interest, she would help them.

“Ginny, I think Neville really needs that book. We’ll talk sometime in the future. Let’s go, Neville,” Hermione said in her usual business tone as she made her exit from the Three Broomsticks.

“What was that, Ginny?” Ron asked, curious as to why his sister was getting annoyed at Neville for wanting a book.

“What was what?” Ginny asked, now looking annoyed at him.

“He’s asking about the wrackspurts around you, Ginny. Aren’t you, Ron?” Luna said, looking certain.

“No—not that. Why were you getting annoyed at Neville?” Ron asked, trying to ignore Luna’s searing gaze at him.

“Oh, you’re never going to understand, are you? Ugh.” She said as she finished her Butterbeer.

“What?” he asked, confused now. What was he supposed to understand?

“Nothing. Come on, Luna. Let’s go,” Ginny said as she stood up, Luna following her, still sipping her drink.

“What—You’re leaving me here?” Ron asked, confused as he stood up.

“What, now you want to hang around us? I thought you didn’t,” Ginny hissed.

“Um—it’s not that,” Ron said nervously, his ears turning red.

“It’s alright, Ron,” she said, sighing.

“I’ll meet you at Yule, Ron. Let’s have a great time together,” Luna said, and then she hugged him. Why did she hug him? She patted him on the back and said, “I think Hermione has shrivelling snails too.” He just stared weirdly at her as she let go of him and left with his sister, trying to understand what the hell shrivelling snails were.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

(Yule Ball)

Hermione Granger

It was the day of the Ball, and it was snowing when Hermione woke up. After freshening up, she bid good morning to her dorm mates and left for the day. In the common room, she found Harry waiting for her. She had tried to get out of her brother why he fled the Three Broomsticks two days ago after seeing Ginny. She knew Harry liked her, but that reaction was about something else. She also noticed that Ginny Weasley had looked uncomfortable after seeing her brother. Had something happened between them? That’s what she wanted to find out, but Harry kept denying anything had happened, so she gave up, at least for now.

Today was going to be a busy day, she thought as she ate her breakfast. They did not have any classes, and after breakfast, the Great Hall would be off-limits to students. Lunch would be provided in the dorms. Even those attending the Ball would only be allowed to enter in the evening. She had quite a few duties to perform that day, including overseeing the decorations and ensuring the students weren’t causing trouble.

By mid-afternoon, Hermione had helped Professor Flitwick enchant and transfigure icicles. Over the past few hours, they had made hundreds of such ornaments, which needed to be charmed individually. Two Ravenclaw prefects had also helped them. She saw that Ron was stationed outside the Great Hall, keeping guard with a few other prefects. When she next checked her watch, she realized she was already running a bit late.

At that moment, she decided to head back and get ready, as most of the other girl prefects had already left. She spotted Ron chatting with Hufflepuff’s Ernie Macmillan. When he saw her, he walked over and said, “Hello, going to get ready?”

“Um—yes,” she gulped nervously. Why was she feeling nervous now?

“Okay,” he said as he awkwardly ruffled his hair. He looked cute whenever he did that. Un-cute, Hermione, are you alright in your head right now?

“What about you? Not going to get ready? Your date won’t like that very much,” Hermione said. She had been feeling a bit antsy around him since she saw him in the Three Broomsticks three days ago with Luna Lovegood. That girl was weird, and Hermione had been a little angry with Ron. He had said he was going to come to the Ball alone, but then he had a date. But why was she angry with him over that? Who would want to come to the Ball alone? It was because he had lied about not wanting to ask anyone, and then he did. It’s very silly, Hermione thought.

“Oh—that. Yeah, that happened because of my sister,” he stammered, his ears turning red. He continued, as if realizing something, “Oh—and, uh, sorry for how my sister behaved last time.”

“No, no, it was fine,” Hermione waved her hand dismissively. Actually, it wasn’t fine. Ginny had been annoyed at Neville for some reason, and she shouldn’t have behaved that way with him. If Hermione was being honest, whenever she and Ginny were in a room together, Ginny’s actions were always quite baffling. Ron just nodded.

“Um—you better get going then. Um, after this, we have to make sure only fourth-years and above are attending,” Ron said as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head again. Oh right, that was one more thing she had to do before she could join the Ball, and she would have to do it in a dress. This Ball is not as much fun as the last one, she thought. At least last time I didn’t have to work this much.

“Yes. See you,” Hermione said as she walked away from Ron. For some reason, she felt nervous around him, which she had never really felt before today. She shook her head as she made her way back to the dorms.

Ron Weasley

On the day of the Yule Ball, Ron Weasley had to guard the Great Hall all afternoon. If someone had told him a few months ago when he received his prefect badge that this was what it entailed, he would have thrown that piece of metal away. He was bored out of his mind. At least he had the company of two other prefects, but how long could he talk to people he’d never really had a conversation with? If Hermione were with him, it would be different. He might be nervous around her, as he often was these days, but he still preferred her company over anyone else’s. But of course, she had to be so smart and good at spell work that she was inside helping with the decorations while he stood there, trying to stop people from entering the Great Hall—though, for your information, there were none.

As he watched many prefects leaving the Great Hall to return to their dorms, he realized Hermione would leave soon too. He readied himself. He was going to talk to her and apologize for Ginny’s rude behaviour. Then Ernie had to ask something about what he was wearing. Ron tried to joke about the hideous maroon robes waiting for him when he saw Hermione standing at the gate. He didn’t even realize it, but his feet were already carrying him toward her. By the time she was gone, after a brief conversation, he berated himself for being nervous again. At least he had apologized for Ginny.

An hour later, he also left his guarding duty to get ready for the Ball. But wearing those robes was going to be another round of punishment. He should’ve just decided not to attend the Ball, but now he had already promised Luna. It was all Hermione’s fault. He wanted to go because of her, and then she went on a date with Neville. Because of that, he’d asked Ginny to find him a date, and she got him one—Luna. In the beginning, he should’ve remembered what he had to wear; maybe then he wouldn’t have made so many stupid decisions. Now Hermione was going to see him in those ridiculous dress robes, and if there had ever been a chance she might be attracted to him, it was shot to hell.

But when he got to his dorm, he saw his sister standing at the staircase. She spotted him and instantly hooked her arm through his, dragging him upstairs before he had a chance to stop her. She barged into the room, causing his dorm mates to yelp in surprise.

“What the hell—why is a girl here?” Seamus shouted from behind his curtains.

“Same,” Dean said, hiding behind the same curtains, both obviously in their undergarments. Ron turned to Ginny, raising an eyebrow, expecting her to explain. He was curious too. For a second, he saw a blush on Ginny’s cheeks before it disappeared. She rounded on him, ignoring the other boys. It was normal for her, Ron supposed, growing up with six brothers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neville crouching behind a bedside table, as if he were afraid of Ginny.

“I’m here to help you,” she said. “Where are your robes?”

“What about my robes?” Ron asked, baffled.

“I’m helping you out,” Ginny replied. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “I don’t want you going in those hideous robes. I don’t want Luna to be embarrassed by you.”

“She’s going to be embarrassed?” he snorted. His sister glared at him to continue that line of thought, so he quickly changed the subject. “Okay, wait a minute.”

It took him a moment to retrieve the robes from his trunk. If Ginny wanted to make them look good, he had no idea how, but he wasn’t going to deny her help.

“It’s the same ones you wore last year,” Seamus said, looking apprehensively at the robes.

“You didn’t burn them last year?” Dean asked, looking at Ron like he was mad for not doing that. Ron shook his head and said, “Maybe after tonight.”

“Make sure you do that,” three voices chimed in unison. Even Neville, still hiding behind the table in his underwear, seemed to agree.

Ginny took the robes from him. “I’ll return these in an hour. Make sure to shower and clean yourself properly,” she said.

He was about to retort when the bathroom door opened, and Harry entered the dorm, wearing only a towel. Steam still wafted around his body, and he was drenched from his shower. As soon as he realized Ginny was there, Harry froze. Harry quickly dashed back into the bathroom in two strides, slamming the door behind him. Ginny said a quick goodbye to Ron before darting out of the dorm as well.

By the time his sister came back, Potter, his friends, and Neville were already gone from the dorms. Potter, throughout his time there, had been dressing himself in a hurry and looked quite clumsy while doing so. He was the first to dash out of the dorms, followed by Seamus and Dean. About ten minutes later, Neville left.

Ginny came in with his robes right after Neville had gone. They were still maroon but no longer frilly—she had modified them. The robes looked much simpler and more wearable. It was still the hideous maroon, but at least he wouldn’t look like a granny anymore. Grateful, he hugged his sister, and she looked quite pleased with herself. That’s when he realized she wasn’t wearing any dress robes.

“You’re not going?” he asked.

She just shook her head.

“Why? Did that bastard—” Ron was about to erupt when Ginny cut him off.

“I broke up with him.”

“Um—why? Did he do something?” Ron asked.

“No. Shouldn’t you be happy I did that?” she replied with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah—no, okay, yeah,” Ron stammered. “But you just decided not to go?”

“Yes. I won’t be there to keep an eye on you—make sure you treat Luna right. If I hear you did anything stupid, I’ll kill you,” Ginny warned, narrowing her eyes again.

“Yeah, alright,” Ron muttered.

“Okay then, have a nice night,” Ginny bid him goodbye.

She had broken up with Corner. That smug bastard. But now Ginny wasn’t going because she didn’t have a date. That didn’t sound like her, not at all. But before he could think more about it, he checked his wristwatch and realized he was getting late.

Ten minutes later, he found himself in the common room and had to wait five more minutes before he saw Hermione coming down from her dorm. She was wearing a pink dress that looked kind of flowy, and her hair was similar to usual, with a few wild curls touching her cheeks as she smiled at him. He had seen her at last year’s Yule Ball when she was escorted by Viktor Krum. This time, it was Neville.

He remembered being completely surprised last year, with even her wild, bushy hair being straightened—she had been barely recognizable to him. This time, her hair wasn’t as straight as last year, but it somehow looked better. She looked beautiful—more beautiful than last time—and Ron was jealous of two people at once: Krum, who had asked her out last year, and now Neville, who had asked her out this time.

As Hermione reached the last step of the staircase, she slipped, but before Ron could even cross the few feet between them, someone had already caught her and helped her stand. It was Neville Longbottom. Ron hadn’t even realized Neville was in the common room, for Merlin’s sake. Was he that engrossed in his thoughts? Ron wanted to run away when he saw Hermione blushing at something Neville had said, then smiling.

A couple of minutes later, she walked toward him, Neville beside her. Ron felt rooted to the spot—he should have run while he had the chance, but now he had to talk. He blurted out, “Let’s go—we’re already about five minutes late.”

He saw Hermione glance at her watch, her breath hitching slightly as she realized, probably for the first time in her life, that she was late.

“Neville, I’ll meet you in the Great Hall, okay?” Hermione said hastily to Neville before turning to Ron. “Now come on.” Maybe it was her being late, or maybe to her, it looked like he was stuck in place, but she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the common room. Her touch was making him feel so many things at once that he just let her lead him.

Hermione Granger

Hermione looked at herself one last time in the mirror as she was about to leave the dorms. She didn’t have as much time as last year, but she still managed to tame her hair somewhat. It was still curly and fell into her eyes, but she didn’t have time to straighten it. She applied light makeup and wore the beautiful dress her mother had gifted her on her birthday. She was mesmerized by the gown, taking a moment to admire it in the mirror. It was a frothy concoction of blush pink, a cascade of layers below her waist. The bodice sat just above her chest. Then she looked at her watch again and saw she was already a couple of minutes late. She quickly said goodbye to Lavender and Parvati, who were still busy applying more makeup.

When she got to the staircase, she saw Ron standing just a few feet away, clearly waiting for her. He was wearing maroon robes—plain and simple like regular robes but still quite nice. The maroon color clashed with his red hair, but somehow that made him more adorable. More adorable? Why would you think he’s more adorable? And has he already been adorable to you, Hermione? Get a grip on yourself.

As she was walking downstairs, lost in thought, she miss stepped. She closed her eyes, feeling gravity pulling her down, but she didn’t fall. She felt someone’s arm around her waist, steadying her on the last step. When she opened her eyes, she saw it was Neville. To her surprise, she felt a pang of disappointment. What, you wanted to fall and embarrass yourself in front of Ron? You should be thankful Neville caught you. She noticed Neville blushing as he nervously asked, “Are—are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hermione replied, smiling at him. “Thanks to you.”

“Um—yeah. By the way, you look be-beautiful,” Neville stammered, looking at the floor. She saw his cheeks were red, and she felt a blush creep up on hers as well.

“Yeah, thanks. Neville, you look good too,” Hermione complimented him, then glanced over at Ron, who was staring at the floor.

“Um, thanks, Hermione,” Neville said, smiling.

“Yeah—um, Neville, I have my prefects’ round,” Hermione said. She and the other prefects were on duty to make sure no one tried to get into the Great Hall before the Ball started.

“Yeah, right,” Neville said, looking back at Ron, following Hermione’s gaze.

Hermione nodded and walked back to Ron. As soon as she reached him, he looked at her and said, “Let’s go—um—we’re already about five minutes late.”

She instantly looked at her watch and realized she was five minutes late. Hermione was never late. Nervousness started creeping in.

“Neville, I’ll meet you in the Great Hall, okay?” Hermione said hastily, turning to Ron. “Now come on.” She grabbed his hand as they hurried along. She didn’t want to be the last one joining the rest of the prefects. The Head Boy and Head Girl were quite strict about rules and meetings, and she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of their ire for being late.

When they reached the meeting spot, she realized she was still holding Ron’s hand. She instantly let go, blushing as she noticed Ron avoiding eye contact. Did I really drag him all the way here like a lunatic? The blush crept further up her face.

They were the first ones to reach the meeting spot, even though they had been five minutes late. It took another five minutes just to get there. It wasn’t until another twenty minutes later that people started arriving, making it forty minutes in total before the meeting started. During those forty minutes, Hermione and Ron didn’t talk much—in fact, they didn’t talk at all. He didn’t even look at her. By the minute, she started feeling anxious. Was there something on her face? Was her hair funny? Was holding his hand for so long making things awkward? Her thoughts were spiralling when Ernie Macmillan arrived with Susan Bones. After that, the rest of the prefects started showing up.

During the meeting, they were given their assigned roles. Hermione and Ron were to patrol one of the routes leading to the Great Hall to ensure no one tried to sneak into the Ball early. After the meeting ended, they walked to their designated route in silence, but Hermione was completely done with the awkwardness. She decided to start a conversation.

“So, when did you ask Luna?” Why would you ask that? Didn’t he tell you last time that his sister set them up? But maybe he meant something else…

“Oh—that. She’s Ginny’s friend. My sister knew I was going alone, so she helped me out,” Ron said hastily, looking like he regretted saying it. So, they came as friends.

“You don’t like her, do you?” Hermione asked. Why are you asking him that?

“Um—yeah, sort of. I mean, she’s my sister’s friend, but I don’t like her that way. You saw her—she’s not my type,” Ron rambled nervously.

“Not your type?” Hermione asked, feeling a sense of relief. Why are you feeling relieved, Hermione?

“What about you?” Ron asked abruptly.

“What about me?” Hermione responded, confused. Did he mean Neville? But then he said, “Never mind.”

“I don’t like Neville in that way, if that’s what you mean,” Hermione replied anyway, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

“Um, okay,” Ron said. He seemed to relax for a moment before tensing up again and asking, “But you went on a date with him.”

“I did—but I realized that day that Neville and I are better as friends,” Hermione said, though she didn’t mention how awkward she had felt when she saw Ron with Luna. After that, she had just been confused about everything. Ron nodded, visibly relaxing again. Is he happy I don’t like Neville? Or is that just in my head?

They walked in silence for a few more minutes before Ron suddenly looked at her and nervously said, “You look beautiful, Hermione.”

“Um—what?” Hermione was caught off guard by his statement. She felt her heart skip a beat at his words, but before she could respond, they heard whispering coming from a nearby classroom.

It was a group of first-year girls trying to sneak into the Great Hall. Hermione had to check the classroom instead of continuing her conversation with Ron. By the time they managed to get the girls back to their dorms, it was already time for the Ball. People were waiting for them, so they quickly walked back to the Great Hall together.

As they entered the hall, Hermione wasn’t particularly surprised by the decorations, as she had helped with quite a lot of them that afternoon. The ceiling was bewitched to resemble a night sky filled with snow, with snowflakes floating throughout the hall. However, the snow melted before it touched anyone or anything. The tables were adorned with white cloths.

Soon enough, Neville approached her. Ron quickly said goodbye as he found Luna, who was standing beside the large Christmas tree decorated with numerous ornaments Hermione had helped charm.

The dance soon started, and after a moment of hesitation, Neville asked Hermione to dance. She accepted his hand, and the two of them made their way to the dance floor. Hermione danced a lot that evening, noticing that Neville seemed to really enjoy it. She saw Ron mostly sitting with Luna, talking. Most of the time, he looked confused, but once, she saw him laughing. When she saw him laughing, she didn’t want to dance anymore and instead wanted something to drink. Neville offered to grab drinks while she walked over to the table where Harry was sitting and sat down beside him. She was tired, so she took off her shoes. Harry had danced too, though not as much. It seemed like he wasn’t really into it, and there was no sign of Parvati.

“Where’s Parvati?” she asked Harry, who simply shrugged.

“You don’t know where your date is?” Hermione asked, now worried, noticing he looked upset.

“Um—I don’t know. I just tagged along. I didn’t even want to come, but she didn’t want to be dateless at the last minute,” Harry replied.

“Why didn’t you want to come?” Hermione asked.

“It’s nothing,” he responded.

“What about your casual relationship with her?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow. She had never been fond of his casual relationship.

“We called it off,” Harry said.

“When?” Hermione asked, intrigued.

“A week ago,” Harry answered. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t spent time with Parvati lately, and Parvati hadn’t dragged him anywhere in the past week.

“Why?” she asked.

“I did something stupid,” Harry muttered.

“What?” Hermione asked, already suspecting it had something to do with Ginny—he had been acting strange around her.

“Nothing, really—”

“It’s about Ginny, isn’t it?” Hermione cut him off.

“No, it’s not,” Harry said, but Hermione placed a comforting hand over his and said, “Harry, tell me. I want to help you, please?”

She could see Harry was anxious and nervous about whatever it was, and he was clearly upset. She hadn’t seen Ginny at the ball either.

“Okay. Hermione, I just—I kissed Ginny,” Harry stammered.

“Oh—you WHAT!” Hermione shouted, realizing she was being too loud as people around them started looking at her. She saw Harry shrinking back in his chair, his shoulders hunched. At that moment, Neville returned with the drinks and looked confused. Harry decided to stand up and leave.

“Neville, I’ll be right back,” Hermione quickly said to him before hurrying after Harry. She found him sitting on one of the staircases to the first floor. The corridor was empty, so she sat down beside him. After a couple of minutes, she asked, “How did she react?”

“How do you think?” Harry snapped before looking back at his feet, his ears turning red. “She didn’t even come to the ball. Since we started playing Quidditch together, Ginny and I have had a lot of conversations. It was just our last practice session before the term ended. After the practice, it was just the two of us talking as we usually did, and that day, she looked beautiful. She was smiling and laughing with me. It felt right—different—and I kissed her. It looked like she might kiss me back, but she just pushed me away and ran out of there.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said sympathetically, holding his hand. After a minute, she added, “At that time, Harry, she was in a relationship—or not, I don’t know—but you were definitely in one from her point of view.” Hermione tried to help him see Ginny’s perspective. Even if Ginny liked him, no girl would want to be kissed by a guy who already had a girlfriend.

“Yeah, she thinks that way. She’s right. I’m a cheater and pathetic for what I did,” Harry berated himself.

“No, Harry, you’re not any of those things,” Hermione insisted. Harry wasn’t like that.

“But I am,” he replied.

“You need to talk to Ginny,” Hermione said. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, no. It’s alright,” Harry said, looking too afraid to even face Ginny.

“Harry, you’re going to have to talk to her sooner or later, and I suggest you do it right after the holidays,” Hermione urged, trying to help him see that it might be time to make his feelings clear. Ginny’s absence from the ball could be a sign she didn’t want to be around him either and she broke up with Corner.

“Okay, I’ll do that,” Harry said as he stood up. “I’m going back to the dorms. You go enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“I can come with you. Neville will understand,” Hermione offered. She didn’t want to leave him alone.

“No, it’s alright, Hermione. Just go, okay?” he said, smiling tiredly.

“Yeah, okay. But promise me you’ll go and sleep. Don’t keep beating yourself up over this,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry said, smiling. “Promise. Good night, Hermy.”

Hermione watched him walk away, not even scolding him for using the nickname he’d given her.

When Hermione walked back inside the Great Hall, she noticed that Ron was dancing with Luna. He was smiling at her awkwardly. He looked clumsy while dancing, but Luna looked serene, and they both seemed happy. Hermione felt a pang of something. Something what, Hermione? Why are you feeling this way? Why does it matter to you that he’s dancing with someone and is happy with that someone? Someone tapped her on the shoulder—it was Neville. He still had the drinks in his hands. She apologized to him for leaving him hanging and thanked him for the drinks. When they sat at the table, she still had her eyes on Ron, who was dancing with Luna. To Neville, it looked like she wanted to dance because he asked her again, and she had nothing better to do. She said yes. When they started dancing, she saw Ron and Luna moving to a table. Hermione continued to dance for a few more minutes, hoping that maybe Ron would ask her. She thought he didn’t like dancing or didn’t know how, but he certainly knew, so maybe he would ask her too. Why do you care whether he asks you to dance or not? But he never came, so Hermione just moved to her table with Neville.

Soon, as she was planning on going back to her common room, she noticed a pair of eyes on her, a pair of blue eyes. As she looked, it was Luna staring at her and smiling. Luna smiled at Hermione before waving her hands—both of them. Soon enough, Luna stood up and walked toward her. Ron, for some reason looking bewildered by the whole situation, apprehensively followed her. Beside Hermione, Neville gave Luna a confused look.

“Hello, Hermione,” Luna said excitedly as she took a chair from across the table. “How’s your night?”

“Um—it was fine. How about you? Did you have fun?” Hermione asked, noticing Ron awkwardly pulling a chair beside Luna. There was an empty chair right beside Hermione, near Ron. Why would he walk around the table to sit on a different chair?

“Oh, I had lots of fun, though there are pestering snorks around here. Still, Ron is fun to be around—he’s funny and the best dancer,” Luna said confidently. Hermione noticed Ron’s ears turning red.

“Oh, right,” Hermione said.

“We were just going back to our dorms,” Luna said as she stood up. Ron followed her.

“Okay,” Hermione said as she stood up herself. “We were leaving too.”

“Were we?” Neville asked her. Hermione just nodded. It was already midnight; it was better to go back now.

“Okay,” Neville replied, standing beside her.

“One more thing,” Luna said suddenly as she turned to look at Ron. Hermione never saw this coming—neither did Ron, apparently. Luna grabbed Ron’s shoulder, stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed him right on the lips. It wasn’t a quick peck; it lasted a couple of seconds. Ron looked bewildered, touching his lips when he realized what had happened. His face turned a deep shade of red. Hermione never knew she could feel so many emotions in one second, but in that one second, she made a realization. First, she was confused by what Luna was about to do, then surprised as she watched Luna do it. Then, suddenly, she felt angry—angry at Luna for kissing him, and angry at Ron for letting it happen right in front of her. She wanted to hex both of them, but she quickly realized she didn’t like seeing Ron kissed by anybody, especially in front of her. Would it be okay if it happened behind her back? As she thought about it, she didn’t like that idea either. So, who should kiss him if no girls were allowed to? Me. Oh no, she wanted to kiss Ron. And she was feeling jealous of Luna for doing that very thing so easily. She was pulled out of her musings when she heard Ron stammering, “W-what was that?”

“A goodnight kiss,” Luna said as though it were obvious.

“But—why, um, would you kiss me?” Ron squeaked out the word “kiss.”

“It’s what people are supposed to do at the end of their meetings—that’s what Ginny told me,” Luna replied.

“So—it’s not like you—you like me or something, right?” Ron asked, looking apprehensive. Hermione waited for Luna’s answer.

“Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I like you, Ron?” Luna asked, looking confused. Hermione’s hope shattered. So, she had just discovered she liked Ron, and now, in front of her eyes, a possible relationship was unfolding. What if Ron liked Luna back? Would she just be jealous of Luna all the time because Ron liked Luna, not her? Maybe it was just a crush that would go away. But why did it feel so painful to see him kissed by somebody else? Why did she feel so much anger?

“You like me? Like me?” Ron asked again, frantically.

“Yes, I like you. I like you, Ron,” Luna replied, looking at Ron like he was an oddball. Now Hermione just wanted to leave. She didn’t want to hear Ron’s confession too, but her heart wanted to hear it. She wanted to be sure. Maybe that would help her get over him, right? If he just confessed his undying love for Luna…

“As in, you want to be my girlfriend, Luna?” Ron’s voice was quite high-pitched by now.

“Oh—that. No, I don’t want to be your girlfriend. Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Luna asked. Hermione felt a bit of relief, and she saw Ron regaining his colour too. She realized he had started to turn pale when Luna said she liked him.

“No. No,” Ron said instantly.

“Then you don’t like me?” Luna asked, now looking nervous.

“No, Luna. I like you—I like you as a friend,” Ron said hurriedly.

“Oh—I like you as a friend too,” Luna said, looking cheerful again. Hermione felt relieved now. She could forget the kiss as just one of Luna’s eccentricities. At least Ron was still single—but would you tell him that you like him? Why would he like you? He didn’t even ask you for a dance when he could have. She had danced with Neville, Seamus, and Dean. He saw her dancing a lot; he could’ve asked her, but he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t like her that way. Why would he? Just because you’re attracted to him, Hermione, doesn’t mean he has to be attracted to you too.

“We should get back to our dorms then?” Hermione suggested, now that all the misunderstandings between Ron and Luna had cleared up.

“Yeah, I’ll just walk Luna to her dorm then,” Ron replied. Hermione didn’t want him to walk Luna back—what if she kissed him again? She wanted Ron to go with her, but she couldn’t say that, so instead, she said, “Yeah, you do that. Bye.”

“Yeah, bye,” Ron replied.

“Bye, Hermione. Bye, Hermione’s date,” Luna said as she left with Ron. Hermione and Neville also left for their common room.

“She can be a bit weird,” Neville said once they were out of Luna’s earshot.

“She can be,” Hermione replied. She didn’t even realize when they reached the common room. As they stood near the girls’ dormitory staircase, she said to Neville, who looked quite nervous, “Thanks for the night, Neville. I had a good time.”

“Yeah, me too,” he awkwardly said.

“Yeah, good night then,” she said, turning around. Then she heard Neville ask, “Can—um—I-I k-kiss you?”

Hermione was not expecting Neville to ask that. She was still recovering from the revelations she had made about herself that night. She just looked at Neville, who looked nervous.

“Neville, I’m sorry, but—I don’t feel that way,” Hermione said, feeling it was better to rip off the Band-Aid than drag things out. Neville looked upset by her statement, but it had to be done. If Ron weren’t invading her thoughts so much lately, she might have dated Neville. He was a good guy. But knowing that she liked Ron, she couldn’t do that—especially not to someone like Neville.

“Um—okay, I’m sorry—I said that,” Neville stammered nervously. He still managed to ask, “What ab-about um, the date though?”

“I—um—I tried, Neville—but it’s just that I like you as a friend,” Hermione said. Neville just nodded.

“I’m sorry, Neville. Good night,” she said and ran upstairs, leaving a heartbroken Neville behind.

...

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

Hermione Granger

Hermione was trying to understand what her feelings meant and why they were even there. The Yule Ball was the day she realized what she felt for Ron. She had accepted that she liked Ron, but it was still hard for her to wrap her head around the idea because, until that moment, she had never really felt that strongly—or rather, she had, but she just ignored them, unable to understand them. It wasn’t the first time she liked a boy. She had liked Viktor Krum just a year or so ago. She went to the last ball with him, and she shared her first kiss with him. They were in a sort of relationship for the next couple of months. She never put a label on it then, and when he left, she didn’t really want to continue a relationship with Viktor. She liked him, but she wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment and distraction, especially in her OWL year.

Why now, of all times, when her exams were just a few months away, was she liking a boy she shouldn’t like? It wasn’t because she believed in that Potter-Weasley grudge garbage. It was just that Ron was Ron. She had just started getting to know him; they had nice chats—okay, maybe not just nice—good, even some of the best. Ron wasn’t some academic prodigy who discussed theorems and advanced magic or anything of that sort. Most of their conversations included just plain nonsense. So why was she feeling this way toward him?

It had been almost a week since she got home. It was Christmas the next day, and for that very reason, right now she was thinking about Ron. She had parchment and quill in her hand, deciding whether to send Ron something for Christmas or not. They were friends, right? She could send him a gift, but were they supposed to? What if Ron didn’t feel the same way, and her sending him a gift would make him feel obligated to send her one too? Or what if sending a gift to him right now would look like she was making a move on him? So many ridiculous things were going on in her head when she heard a knock at her door.

“Hermione?” She heard her mother’s voice. She replied as she stood up and opened the door, “Yeah, Mum?”

“What are you doing? Don’t you want breakfast?” Lily said, her voice laced with worry as she looked at Hermione.

“Um,” Hermione said as she looked at the clock. She realized she had just wasted the last hour contemplating writing a letter she never managed to write. So, for the last hour, she was obsessing over Ron to the point she even forgot her breakfast—at least she knew Ron wasn’t thinking about her; she didn’t think he would ever forget his breakfast.

“When did you wake up?” Lily asked as she looked around Hermione’s room. There were crumpled parchments, and one parchment sitting on Hermione’s desk to be written on. Hermione realized too late she had written “Dear Ron” on top of that one. For the last hour—apparently, she had been trying to write something for Ron, but she just didn’t like anything written so far. Now she wasn’t even able to make sense of why she had even tried to write anything. She saw Lily’s eyebrows rise a bit as she read Ron’s name.

“Just a couple of minutes ago—writing a small letter to—um, one of my friends,” Hermione said nervously.

“So you’re telling me that right after waking up, the first thing you wanted to do was write a letter?” Lily asked as she went to sit on the bed. Obviously, her mother was going to have a chat now.

“Not that—it’s just last night I forgot to write him one, and after waking up, I thought I should write the letter,” Hermione said.

“Alright—so first you woke up late, then instead of having breakfast, you decided you needed to write a letter to Ron before anything else?” Lily said, her lips curving up a bit as she said “anything else.” Hermione nervously nodded. Lily just lightly smiled at her before patting the bed beside her, a gesture for Hermione to sit, which she did.

“Now? What is it, Hermione?” Lily asked softly.

“I don’t know—it’s just the wretched ball—before that, I didn’t feel this way, but since that night—” Hermione said, looking frustrated.

“The wretched ball? I thought your date was Neville, not Ron?” Lily asked, looking curious.

“Neville was my date, but Ron was the one I wanted to be with that night. I didn’t realize it at that moment, but when I saw Luna kissing him, I just felt jealous, and everything just hit me—that’s why I was feeling awkward and angry at him for having a date. I just made myself believe it was because he lied to me, but no—it was just because he had a date,” Hermione said, flustered. “I mean, I know I’m being a hypocrite—I also had a date—it’s not like he likes me the same way. I shouldn’t expect anything, but I don’t know, I’ve just been feeling this way for the last few days.”

“Hermione, it’s alright to feel this way. You shouldn’t blame yourself. These are your feelings,” Lily replied soothingly as she rubbed Hermione’s back.

“I don’t know, Mum,” Hermione sniffled.

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Lily said. Hermione looked a bit better, and then she said, “I didn’t even feel this way last year.”

“Last year with Viktor, you mean?” Lily said. “I’m glad you didn’t feel this way about him.”

“You too?” Hermione said, looking surprised at her mother’s words. Last year, everyone disapproved of Hermione’s relationship with Krum. She received plenty of letters discouraging her from going out with Krum, from her father and her uncles, even Uncle Remus, who was always so understanding. But her mother’s letter was not disapproving. Her mother really treated the whole Viktor situation by not talking about it even for a bit. This is the first time her mother had said something about Viktor. Now Hermione could see that even her mother didn’t like Viktor for some reason. Lily nodded before saying, “I don’t mind you dating Viktor, Hermione, but not right now. He is a legal adult, and you are a minor. Yes, if you both were adults, your relationship wouldn’t bother me, but right now he is, and you are not.”

“Okay,” Hermione nodded along at her mother’s words. “I never really liked Viktor that much.” Lily smiled at her pityingly. Lily understood her. She knew that Hermione, at this moment, was worried about her exams, and she wouldn’t compromise on that with anything. But now there was a guy in her head who she was finding difficult to ignore. For her, ignoring any other guy had been easy, even Viktor, for these very reasons. But ignoring Ron was something she was finding troublesome. It had been just a week since she knew she liked Ron, and she just wanted to see him.

“Hermione? Is this the same Ron?” Lily asked. Hermione knew what her mother was asking. In her family, everyone was aware of how Ron treated Hermione in their first year, courtesy of Harry. He told everybody how awful Ron was, and Hermione, at that time, agreed with everything. She didn’t really know that, in the future, she might like the same boy she had disliked. Hermione nodded. She felt like defending Ron and said, “He apologized. He’s not the same anymore, and if anything, it wasn’t like I was great at that time. He is really kind and sweet once you get to know him.”

Lily smiled at Hermione as she nodded and said, “Understandable, Hermione. I disliked your father very much during our first few years at Hogwarts too.” They had heard that story multiple times, about how her father and mother didn’t really get along. But her father was always confident about himself, so he always told her mother about his feelings.

“Yeah, I know,” Hermione replied.

“See, Hermione, it’s okay to like him. You don’t have to be worried about your feelings. Now, if you want to write a letter, you can, but I want you downstairs in a few minutes to have your breakfast,” Lily said as she stood up and walked to the door. Hermione nodded. Her mother left the room with a smile at Hermione.

Hermione just sat there for a couple of minutes, contemplating whether to write a letter or not. She just stared at the parchment and decided against writing one, giving herself the reasoning that it would come across as hitting on him. They never asked each other to write letters; she couldn’t do it first. She couldn’t look desperate, especially to someone she liked.

Later that evening, Hermione found herself surrounded by her family. She was helping her mother set the table with Sirius, who was joking around. Her day had gone like any other Christmas day. In the morning, she had breakfast with her family. She was the last one to have breakfast, and everyone, including Harry, reminded her of that, as she was never late. In the afternoon, there was a small Quidditch match between her father and his friends. Harry joined, as always, and she mostly tried to keep her three year old sister from grabbing a broomstick to join the others as the game progressed. Now they were going to have dinner.

After setting up the table, she called her father, Harry, and Remus, who were currently on the duty of handling the three-year-old demon of the household—her little sister, Violet. They called her Vi (she heard it as "weeee"). She had always been a handful, and the only person who could calm her was her mum. Soon enough, they were all sitting and enjoying their meals.

"Harry? How was the ball this year?" Remus asked. This was a question no one had asked until now, but it looked like it was going to be the topic of conversation. Harry just choked and coughed at Remus's words. Her mother, who was sitting beside Harry, Violet in her lap, rubbed his back. Harry's cheeks turned red as he said, "Not bad."

"Not bad, eh? Why are you blushing then?" It was Sirius who asked cheekily. Harry just blushed harder as he said, "Yeah. Not bad."

"Guess what, James? Kids these days are calling it 'not bad,'" Sirius said, winking at Harry, who was really embarrassed now. Her father just laughed, and hearing her father laugh, Violet also started laughing in Lily’s lap.

"Sirius, mind your manners. We have three kids here," Lily admonished him for his suggestive language. Sirius just charmingly smiled at Lily. Hermione saw Remus just shaking his head. At least for the rest of the dinner, there was no further mention of the ball.

A young girl of six was sitting in the backseat of a car, looking out of the window. The girl looked like she had cried a lot that night. Her father was driving the car, and her mother was sitting beside him. Mr. Granger looked at his wife worriedly, then looked at Hermione, who was still silent after crying so much. It was snowing outside, and the visibility on the road was low.

Hermione was just angry at her parents. She was going to spend Christmas with Harry, but they wanted to spend it with her grandparents. It wasn't like she didn't want to meet her grandparents, but her father had told her they didn't have to go to Grandpa and Grandma's this year, so she was excited about spending Christmas with Harry and having a magical Christmas. But at the last minute, that afternoon, they changed their plans. Now, Hermione was just angry with her parents. She didn't want to go, and she had shown her displeasure plenty over the last few hours. She had even shouted at them that she was never going to talk to them again. She looked at her mother, who was smiling at her, but Hermione just glared at her before looking out of the window at the falling snow, ignoring Mrs. Granger. But it was just a minute or so before everything became so bright and loud; there was a blinding light. When Hermione looked at her parents, she saw nothing but the light and heard a loud sound. Suddenly, everything went blank.

Hermione woke up with a start. She was panting and sweating on the cold night of December. She got out of her bed and walked downstairs into the living room, where she found her dad sitting on the couch. He just smiled at her. She took a seat beside him. James Potter said nothing to her, just waved his wand, and two steaming mugs appeared full of hot cocoa in front of them.

"Another?" James asked her as he passed a mug to her. Hermione gladly took it. She just nodded. It was a kind of ritual between them since she had lived with the Potters. She always found her dad at night whenever she had a nightmare.

"You didn't have to be up," Hermione said. She always had a nightmare around Christmas; it was the day she lost her parents.

"I do, though," James replied, warmly smiling at her.

"I don't like worrying you," Hermione said.

"I'll always worry about you, sweetheart," James replied.

"Sometimes I feel like I'll never stop having these nightmares," Hermione said.

"Even if you are sixty and you need me, I'll be beside you," James said, and Hermione chuckled at that. She knew how her father could be, and she didn't even doubt him. Since the night she lost her parents, she had gained two more. Both of them had always been wonderful. She knew she didn't deserve this much love. When she lost her parents, she was being an immature brat over something that she shouldn't have been. So after losing them, she always felt undeserving of love. The way James and Lily Potter showed her love was just overwhelming. They never left her side. They always took care of her when she had a nightmare, when she was being a brat, and when she was scared.

"I don't know what to say," Hermione replied as she sipped some hot cocoa.

"You can say anything" James said

"I feel like I'm always losing them by being happy," Hermione said. "I feel like I shouldn't be happy."

"By being happy, you are not losing them," James said. "If anything, you are making them happy."

"Really?" Hermione asked, hoping for her father to say yes, which she knew he would say. This is a conversation they've had over a hundred times; his answers never changed.

"Of course," James said as he smiled at her.

"I remember them vividly. I know I was just six, but some of their memories are just always there in my head," Hermione said. James just nodded at her for her to continue. "It's just, I- I don't know how long I'll have these memories. What if I lose them too, just like them?"

"You are never forgetting them, Hermione. Don't be afraid of that," James said as he pointed at her heart. "They will always be there."

Hermione just nodded and hugged her father as she wept. After some minutes, she just sat there with her father in complete silence.

The morning she came downstairs and found Harry and her mother in the living room, Hermione was feeling much better. Her late-night conversation with her dad always cheered her up. She saw the Christmas tree surrounded by presents, and soon enough, a sleepy James joined them, grumbling about how waking up early in the morning should be a crime. She chuckled at her father and looked apologetically at him, as he had stayed up late because of her the previous night. He just chuckled back and messed up her hair.

Lily sent James to get Violet downstairs, as Vi was a heavy sleeper who usually spent most of her energy causing chaos in the house. Hermione and Harry knew by now that there was never a Santa coming down the chimney to give them their presents, but she still liked the thrill of opening them. When James brought Vi downstairs, she looked full of energy and was squirming in her father’s arms the moment she saw the presents. Vi was shouting, “Pesents, pesents!” That was their cue to open their gifts.

Hermione had already finished opening all of her presents except the last one, which was wrapped in brown paper. The wrapping paper had creases on it, as if someone had tried to wrap it multiple times. She knew what the present was—it was a book. She could see that from the wrapping itself, and most people sent her books, knowing she liked reading. Still, she felt intrigued and opened the present. She was surprised to see the book; it was *The Tales of Beedle the Bard*, in the original Latin.

It was hard to find this book in Latin. She had always wanted a copy in the original language in which it was written. She already knew the stories, but she wanted this edition. She had never really told her parents because she didn’t want them to go through the extra work of finding this book. She herself had tried multiple times to find it, sending a few mails as well, but she was always disappointed, as there were never any Latin editions left in the stores. Those who had the book wanted to preserve their copy. She realized she might find it abroad but was afraid of the price; she didn’t want to spend that much money, at least not now. But now, she had the book in her hand.

As a note slipped out of the book, she picked it up and started reading it. She already knew who it was from.

“Dear Hermione,

Hope you are doing well— Hope your break at home is going wonderfully. And hopefully You are not just constantly trying to keep up with OWL work, just try to relax for the next few days, yeah, Hermione? As for me, I’m not doing much; Christmas is as usual. As always, my whole family is gathered, and we are all having fun.

And I hope you like the book. It was not that difficult to get it.

Ron.”

She was reminded of their last conversation that night when she had mentioned the book to Ron, who remembered and got her one. She was just speechless as she adoringly looked at the book.

Ron Weasley

Ron was sitting at his table that evening with a quill in his hand and a parchment on his table, a “Dear Hermione” written on top of the parchment in his messy scrawl. There were heaps of crumpled parchments in his dustbin. He had written multiple notes by now, but nothing seemed genuine or perfect to him. He needed to write a note that would not sound lovely, or sweet, or funny. He just wanted to sound like a normal friend, but he was finding it difficult. As he crumpled another parchment and threw it in the dustbin, his room’s door swung open.

It was Ginny, who walked into his room and plopped onto his bed, sitting comfortably and staring at him, sweetly smiling as she said, “Trouble in paradise?”

“Sod off, Ginny, will you?” Ron said, annoyed at his sister for invading his room.

“Language, Ron. What will Mum say if she hears you?” Ginny replied.

“Yeah, still, just go and annoy someone else,” Ron said.

“There is no one else,” Ginny said in her bored tone. “I thought you might need my help.”

“Why would I need your help?” Ron asked, confused.

“Um—the letter?” Ginny said as if it was obvious.

“What letter?” Ron asked.

“The one you want to write, um, to—” Ginny replied, took a pause, and added with a cheeky smile, “Miss Granger.”

Ron blushed but sputtered, “What—um, what do you mean? Why would I write to her?”

“Oh—I don’t know, maybe because you like her,” Ginny said sarcastically.

“What are—you on about—uh, who says I—li—like her?” Ron replied, stammering and blushing.

“That’s very apparent, Ron,” Ginny said, and she stood up and picked up one of the crumpled parchments, opening it and showing him “Dear Hermione” written on it, continuing, “as apparent as this.”

“I a-am just writing to her as a friend,” Ron said, trying to keep his voice even.

“Yeah, friend, right,” Ginny snorted as she looked at the heaps of parchment.

“Never mind, just get out of my room,” Ron said, looking embarrassed.

“Really? Ron, I have helped you until now; why don’t you just let me help once more?” Ginny said.

“What do you mean you have helped me?” Ron asked, looking confused.

“Ron, sometimes I don’t know if you are being thick on purpose or you are really just thick,” Ginny said, looking annoyed. Ron just glared at her. “You know what, just get out.”

“Don’t you want to snog Hermione?” Ginny said cheekily again. She was enjoying this; she always enjoyed his torment.

“I told you I don’t like Hermione that way!” Ron shouted at her.

“Yeah, yeah. Calm down. I mean, I had to do a lot of work for you, you know. I even had to ask Luna to help out,” Ginny said, enjoying the look Ron was giving her. He was coming to a realization.

“Don’t tell me you told Luna to kiss me. You know what? It doesn’t surprise me. You are capable of doing such things,” Ron said as he accusingly pointed at her.

“I didn’t ask her to kiss you. I just asked her to make Hermione jealous,” Ginny said.

“Why would Hermione be jealous?” Ron said, looking confused again.

“Why wouldn’t she be? To me, it looked like she liked you too. The whole Three Broomsticks meeting made me realize that, as she was annoyed at Luna,” Ginny said.

“Hermione wasn’t annoyed at Luna; she tried to be friendly. She was just weirded out by Luna’s weird behaviour,” Ron replied.

“No, it wasn’t just that,” Ginny said. “Even if it was, Hermione was obviously annoyed at Luna at the ball, especially after your kiss. Oh, how I regret not seeing that!”

“I don’t think Hermione was jealous. Why would she be?” Ron said, exasperated.

“Whatever, Ron. Just write the damn letter and send her whatever present you got for her,” Ginny said.

“Just get out of here!” Ron snapped at her, as he started pushing her out of his room.

“Glad to help, Ron,” Ginny said one last time. As he managed to get her out of his room, he shut the door behind her. He fumbled back to his chair, looking at the quill and parchment. Then he looked at the gifts he had brought for Hermione. One was a perfume that smelled like strawberries, just like how her hair smelled. He had bought this during his visit to Hogsmeade; he initially wanted to send her this. Now, looking back at it, he thought it might come across as something too personal.

So he looked at the book sitting beside the perfume. His brother Bill had brought it home that morning as Ron had requested of him, when Bill came home from Egypt to celebrate Christmas. He stared at “The Tales of Beedle the Bard.”

He remembered the night after the Ball. When he got back to the common room, he was too tired, his thoughts of Hermione swirling around in his head as he sat on the couch in front of the fireplace. He dozed off on the couch. He suddenly felt a heavy weight on his chest. He felt a bit suffocated and heard a shriek. As he groggily opened his eyes, he saw someone standing over him, something bright pointed at him, someone staring at him. It was all blurry, but within a few seconds, everything came into focus. The person in front of him was mumbling something. It was Hermione, he realized.

It looked like she was about to run upstairs to her dorm. As she was about to, Ron grabbed her wrist, not wanting her to go away for some reason. He saw she looked surprised at his sudden action. She was staring at him. He could see her questioning gaze, but at the same time, she looked a bit tense. Her cheeks were red. As he stared at her, he realized what might’ve happened. Whatever weight he had felt on his chest was someone trying to sit on the couch, not realizing someone was sleeping on it. As he realized this, he saw that it was pitch black in the common room. The fireplace fire had died out long ago, with only moonlight coming from the windows and Hermione’s wand’s bright light. It was Hermione who had sat on him. Realizing this, he let go of her wrist, becoming embarrassed at what had happened.

“’M sorry,” he mumbled.

“What?” she asked, looking shocked.

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have slept here on the couch,” Ron said as he looked at the floor.

“Oh no. It’s alright. I mean, it was my fault—if anything, I’m sorry for just sitting—” Hermione said as she trailed off her last words and looked at the floor. Both of them just stayed that way for some time, awkwardly looking anywhere but at each other.

“What were you doing here in the common room this late at night?” Ron asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

“Oh—I just couldn’t sleep—what were you doing here, sleeping here?” Hermione said.

“Nothing, was just sitting on the couch and dozed off.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah. Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Don’t know, just couldn’t.”

“Um, yeah,” Ron said. He was not going to press her any further. She might have had a nightmare. He changed the topic, asking something that might help him. “What’s your ideal Christmas present—as Christmas is around, you know?”

“Um—an ideal present? It’s a book,” Hermione responded.

“Yeah, a book—no surprises there,” Ron chuckled at Hermione’s answer. Of course, she would want a book for her present, and here he had bought perfume for her. What was he thinking?

“Not just any book—I want *The Tales of Beedle the Bard,*” Hermione replied.

“That’s an ordinary book, Hermione, for children,” Ron said, surprised at what Hermione wanted, even if it was a book.

“Not any though. I want the Latin edition. Believe me, it’s tough to get your hands on it. I have tried, but nothing worked,” Hermione said, looking a bit annoyed.

“Yeah, but you can ask your parents,” Ron said, really not seeing any difficulty. It might be here, but maybe in another country, just an international owl order away.

“No. I don’t want them to do extra work for my present,” Hermione replied and then asked, “What about you? What’s your ideal present?”

“Mine?” He asked, taken aback by the sudden change, but recovered quickly and added, “Um—mine would be something Quidditch-related.”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to chuckle and say, “Yes. Of course, it’s Quidditch-related.”

“Yes, I want a broomstick, not just any, though. I want the Firebolt,” Ron said dreamily.

“I don’t know what boys’ obsession is with flying,” Hermione said.

“Oh, Hermione, it’s a wonderful feeling to fly,” Ron replied.

“I don’t like flying that much.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid of heights.”

“You are afraid of heights?”

“Yes. It’s silly, I know—”

“It’s not silly,” Ron cut her off. She looked surprised and asked, “Why?”

“Because I’m scared of spiders,” Ron confessed, looking embarrassed.

“You are?” Hermione asked, a bit surprised at his admission.

“Yes. I am,” Ron admitted.

“Oh, but I have never seen you scared of spiders in Potions class,” Hermione said, confused. She had seen him working with spiders multiple times.

“I don’t mind them dead—I hate it when they are moving,” Ron said sheepishly.

“Okay,” Hermione said. Then she asked, “Why are you afraid of them? Did something happen?”

“Um—it’s nothing, really. It’s stupid. Fred turned my favorite bear into a giant spider when I broke his broomstick,” Ron said.

“Oh—so since then you have arachnophobia,” Hermione said. Ron just nodded. “Yes.”

“I had a nightmare,” Hermione suddenly said. Ron was taken aback but realized she was talking about why she had come down from her dorm.

“About what?” he asked her.

“About the accident in which I lost my parents,” Hermione said, her eyes shining in the moonlight.

“Oh—you were there when they...” Ron trailed off.

“Yes, I was, and my magic only protected me at the time,” Hermione said, her head bowed. He could sense she was sobbing. As her shoulders shook a bit, trying to comfort her, he awkwardly patted her on her shoulder. After a few minutes, she recovered and looked at him with teary eyes as she said, “I always see them, and I just hate myself for surviving alone.”

Ron, not knowing what to say, just looked at her straight in the eyes, trying to convey that it wasn’t her fault.

“I—I just—don’t know. I always felt this guilt,” Hermione said as her voice shook again.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I am glad you survived. I can’t possibly understand what you feel or what your parents might think, but I think they are glad too.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “I have got this amazing family—which loves me. That makes me feel more guilty that I’m living happily while they are dead—I don’t think I deserve love.”

“You deserve love,” Ron said firmly. “Don’t ever think otherwise.” Hermione just stared at him. Seeing the determined look in his eyes just made her nod at him.

“You are a great friend, Ron,” Hermione said, smiling tiredly at him.

“You are exaggerating,” Ron said, looking embarrassed.

“No. I mean it,” Hermione said, smiling brightly at him. The tear stains still on her cheeks, he wanted to reach out and wipe them clean, but that felt like invading Hermione’s space, and he didn’t want to upset her. He just shook his head at her. They sat there for how long they didn’t remember, chatting, but Hermione, after a while, said he looked too tired. He tried to tell her no, but she could see his yawn. He gave up and decided to go back to the dorm after he managed to send her back to hers.

The next day, when he woke up to get ready to board the Hogwarts Express to take him back home for the winter break, he wrote a letter to his brother Bill and asked him for *The Tales of Beedle the Bard* Latin edition as his Christmas and birthday present. He practically begged his brother for the original Latin edition.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

Hermione Granger

Hermione returned to Hogwarts after her winter break. It had been a week since she came back, and most of last week was spent scheduling her next couple of months in preparation for her upcoming OWL exams. She had decided to put Ron at the back of her mind for now. They were good friends, and she didn’t want to ruin that. Besides, right now didn’t feel like the right time to pursue any relationship as she was already busy with her studies and prefect duties. It was hard for her to make this decision, especially after Ron’s thoughtful Christmas present. She had sent him a thank-you note right away after seeing the book. She thought about sending him a present too, but she didn’t at the time and felt she had lost her chance.

On top of it, he wanted a Firebolt. It was really expensive, and she couldn’t afford it. She even considered stealing Harry’s, which was a ridiculous idea. She was just going mad with her ideas, so she thought it would be best to give something to Ron for his birthday, which she learned was on the first of March. For now, she was trying to create a bit of distance between them. She didn’t like being far away from him, but she was afraid she might do something stupid, like what happened a week ago when they first met at the Hogwarts Express.

After saying goodbye to her parents, Hermione got on the train. Harry was already nowhere to be seen, having been whisked away by his friends. Hermione joined the prefects’ meeting, which was to take place on the Express for the start of the term. She saw Ron joining as well. After the meeting ended, she and Ron were on their own, walking along the corridor.

“Thanks for the book, Ron. It was wonderful of you,” Hermione said, smiling while tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She was avoiding his eyes.

“Um – yeah. Okay,” Ron said, smiling while rubbing the back of his head. Hermione just smiled at his actions; he was simply too adorable.

“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t send you anything,” Hermione apologized.

“It was alright,” Ron said as he shook both hands in front of him.

“No, it wasn’t. I should have—”

“It was alright, Hermione. Really,” Ron cut her off, smiling at her. She just smiled back shyly.

“You are wonderful, Ron,” Hermione said and flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly for being such a kind boy. She could feel Ron awkwardly hugging her back. She felt relieved sensing his arms around her shoulders, but that lasted only a few seconds as she realized what she had done. She pulled herself out of the embrace and looked at him, embarrassed by her behaviour. Hermione said incoherently, “Bye,” before leaving a gobsmacked Ron standing in the middle of the train corridor.

After that, whatever few conversations she had with him were just plain awkward—for her. Hugging him, then holding his hand, she realized that she was really dumb sometimes because she did stupid stuff. Nowadays, her stupidity was tenfold around Ron. So she decided to keep a little distance and try to put Ron at the back of her head, hoping that it would be enough.

Ron Weasley

Since Ron had returned to Hogwarts, a lot of surprising stuff had happened around him, most of it involving Hermione. One time she was hugging him, then she was running away from him, then she was trying to have a conversation with him, and then she was leaving in the middle of it. Now it looked like she was avoiding him. He didn’t know what to think of her actions.

On his very first day of classes back at Hogwarts, he stayed behind in his dorms to have a chat with Potter. When Potter came out of the lavatory after taking a bath that morning, Ron simply said, “I will play. If you still want a keeper.”

“Yeah?” Potter asked, looking surprised.

“I want to play,” Ron repeated himself. He had told Hermione before winter break that he would try to play Quidditch. He was planning on doing that. Potter just looked at him for a couple of minutes and then shrugged. “Alright. You are in.”

That was that. It was only a very small conversation. On that very first day, nothing else happened except that evening when he found Hermione in the common room by an armchair, writing ferociously. He didn’t want to disturb her, so he decided to sit somewhere where he could watch her. He watched her studying for what felt like hours before she stood up and realized someone was watching her. She saw him and caught his eyes; he averted his gaze as he felt his cheeks getting hot. Hermione just walked to him and sat beside him, asking, “Hello.”

“Hello,” Ron gulped.

“How’s your day?” Hermione asked.

“Fine. And you?” Ron replied.

“It was a bit taxing, and I’m still behind my schedule, but in a week I might be able to catch up,” Hermione replied as she rubbed her eyes.

“Um – yeah. You are behind your schedule?” Ron asked, surprised. If anything, schedules were behind her. She blushed as she nodded and said, “Yeah, there were some things on my mind which kept me really occupied for the last few days.”

“You study in your break time too? No, don’t answer – I know you do,” Ron said, looking unsurprised.

“Yeah, whatever plans I had for the break went down the drain, so now I have a lot to catch up on,” Hermione said, looking at her palms. He realized she was avoiding his eyes for some reason.

“Yeah,” Ron said. “I am sorry, about yesterday—”

“Um – what?” Hermione asked what he was apologizing for.

“You know, for hugging you,” Ron said, looking embarrassed.

“Oh, that,” Hermione was flabbergasted but continued after a pause, “It was nothing, and I was the one who hugged you.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, sensing that Hermione was totally uncomfortable. Great, Ron, you just had to bring up that hug. And why were you even apologizing?

“Hmm,” Hermione hummed and then asked, “I heard you joined the team.”

“Yeah. Just talked to Potter this morning,” Ron replied. That was the first time she looked him in the eye and beamed at him. He could see she was really happy for him.

“You will play wonderfully, Ron,” Hermione said, still smiling.

“Yeah, we will see about that,” Ron said nervously.

“I’m sure of it, Ron. You will be wonderful,” Hermione said as she grabbed his hand. She was gazing at him with such a searing look that he felt like melting. Whatever it was might have had some kind of effect on Hermione as well, as she suddenly stood up, said something about feeling sleepy, and ran upstairs after quickly gathering her stuff.

That’s how his first day back at school went. Now, after a week, he just couldn’t do much except contemplate it all and try to make sense of it. Since that conversation, they hadn’t really talked again. Hermione always looked like she was avoiding him. They hadn’t had any patrolling duties for the last week. Their first one was in two days, and he was hoping for it to come as soon as possible.

Hermione Granger

The past week had been hectic, but at least she didn’t have any prefect duties. That evening, however, she was on patrol with Ron, and she was trying to calm herself as she stood outside their common room, waiting for him to show up. She didn’t want to repeat her foolish actions. The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, and a tall, lanky boy walked out. Ron smiled brightly at her when he saw her, and she smiled back at him. Butterflies were already fluttering in her stomach. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could control herself.

“Hello,” Ron greeted her.

“Hello,” Hermione replied.

They started their patrol, but beyond that initial greeting, there wasn’t much conversation. Ron asked her several things, but Hermione mostly kept her answers to “yes” or “no.” She thought anything more might sound silly. As they were about to finish their patrol, Ron suddenly stopped walking. Hermione stopped too and looked back at him questioningly. He stared at her for a moment before speaking.

“Did I upset you?” Ron asked.

“Um, what?” Hermione replied, confused.

“Did I upset you?” Ron repeated, looking nervous.

“No,” Hermione said. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know—you’ve been avoiding me for the past few days, and today you barely replied to me,” Ron explained. His reasons were valid. Hermione had been avoiding him, but not because he upset her. No, it was because he completely distracted her. She couldn’t study when he was around, couldn’t talk properly, and couldn’t stop herself from wanting to touch him.

“No, it’s not that,” she tried to reassure him. “I’ve just been busy with studying—exams are coming up.”

“Yeah, I thought that too—but what about tonight? You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk,” Ron said.

“I’ve just got too many things on my mind right now, Ron. That’s all,” Hermione said. “I’m sorry if I came across as rude.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize,” Ron mumbled, blushing and looking embarrassed.

“Okay,” Hermione replied.

“Yeah,” Ron muttered.

They reached the common room and awkwardly said their goodbyes after the conversation.

Hermione was sitting in the common room on a couch. In front of her, on the table, her books and parchments were sprawled out. She was trying to complete her classwork, but all she could think about was her conversation with Ron from a few days ago. At this moment, he was probably defending the goalposts, as it was his first Quidditch practice.

She had thought about their conversation regarding her avoiding him. He made valid points and raised concerns, but Hermione had refuted him then. However, she had been ignoring him, and it was for a very simple reason: she turned into an awkward mess in front of him. She was constantly, unknowingly, touching him or hugging him. She did that once, but it was something serious to her, as her feelings were always trying to come out. She needed to be in control of them. But she couldn’t just avoid him forever—he was starting to become suspicious. She thought that if she buried herself in her work, he would just assume she was too busy. But what about their patrols, like last time? She couldn’t just give him minimal answers. He was her friend, and she always had good conversations with him. She couldn’t just stop that—it would only make him more suspicious, thinking she was ignoring him, which was far from the truth. In reality, she always tried to find him, just to see him. She liked him, but she couldn’t tell him. First, she didn’t want to face rejection, and second, she didn’t want to lose their friendship.

“Hermione, you can’t think like that,” she berated herself. “OWLs are far more important than pursuing a relationship. They define your entire future. They’re going to affect your career, and your ambitions will never be fulfilled if you mess them up. So you really can’t like a boy right now.”

But she did. That was the root of the problem—why did she have to like him? They had such a good friendship, and her feelings were only going to ruin it.

Hermione’s thoughts were interrupted as she saw two people entering the common room, both redheads, with broomsticks over their shoulders. Hermione’s eyes connected with Ron’s for a moment. He smiled at her before making a beeline for his dormitory, heading upstairs and disappearing. Hermione realized she had been so focused on Ron that she hadn’t noticed someone sitting beside her. When she glanced sideways, she saw Ginny Weasley, smirking at her. Hermione instantly started rifling through her books in search of something—anything—to avoid Ginny’s knowing look.

“It was a funny day,” she heard Ginny mutter.

“Why?” Hermione asked, curious as to what made the day funny.

“Just the practice. You should’ve seen Seamus and Fred trying to work together,” Ginny said. “It didn’t work—most of the time they were just hurling insults at each other. Sometimes bludgers.”

“Oh,” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Ginny continued. “Ron had a blast, though.”

“He played well?” Hermione asked.

“Umm—somewhat?” Ginny replied.

“How did he have a blast then?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, he was having way too much fun with the bickering going on between Fred and Seamus,” Ginny said.

“Okay,” Hermione nodded.

“Do you like Ron?” Ginny suddenly asked. It was such an out-of-the-blue question that Hermione just said, “Yes,” without even realizing what she had just agreed to. When the realization of what Ginny had asked hit her, Hermione was too shocked to do anything but stare at Ginny, who was smiling wickedly.

“Good,” Ginny said.

“What did you ask?” Hermione asked quickly, trying to process everything.

“I just asked if you liked Ron.”

“Why would you ask that?”

“It looked like you did.”

“I do not like him,” Hermione said, flustered.

“But you just said—” Ginny pointed out.

“I didn’t know what I was saying yes to,” Hermione replied, trying to keep her voice from squeaking.

“You just blurt out ‘yes’ to whatever?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No—I don’t do that. But yes, it sort of happened,” Hermione said, feeling flustered.

“It sort of happened? Then do you like him?” Ginny asked, her voice sounding challenging.

“No—I do not. Not in that way,” Hermione said, now wondering why Ginny was even asking her this question.

“Yeah, sure,” Ginny replied, sounding unconvinced.

“Why did you ask me this?” Hermione asked.

“Why? Why not? It just looked like you liked him. I had my suspicions,” Ginny said.

“Okay,” Hermione said. “Just don’t have any, alright?”

“Yes, I don’t have any suspicions anymore, as you just confirmed that,” Ginny said. Hermione nodded, her expression turning to confusion as she said, “Confirmed?”

“Yes—I mean, you like him,” Ginny said.

“I just said—”

“Yeah, I know what you said,” Ginny interrupted, “but I can tell you like him.”

“I don’t know why you would think that,” Hermione said nervously.

“Hermione—can I call you Hermione? You can call me Ginny,” Ginny said, continuing as Hermione nodded. “I’ve seen the way you act around my brother.”

“I mean, really,” Hermione said, confused. “We’ve only had two conversations so far, and one of them was when you hexed your brother, and the other was when you were rude to Neville.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But those two conversations were enough. And now you’ve just confirmed it today,” Ginny said.

“As I said, I didn’t mean to—”

“How long are you going to deny it, Hermione?” Ginny asked, cutting her off.

“Deny what?”

“Come to me when you need help. You’ll need it soon enough,” Ginny said cryptically, leaving Hermione with more questions than answers. It was her third conversation with Ginny, and it was just as confusing as the previous two.

Ron Weasley

A bludger came flying at Ron, and he dodged it just in time. He shouted at his brother, “Oi, gone mad or something?”

Fred didn’t even look in his direction as he was busy hurling another insult at Seamus. At that very moment, while Ron was angrily glaring at his brother, another ball came flying at him, knocking him in the chest. This time, it was his sister, Ginny, who had thrown the ball. She just laughed at him as he switched his glare from Fred to her.

It had been like this the whole evening—it was his first practice for the upcoming Quidditch game against Hufflepuff, and it was downright hilarious. At least when he was not missing the Quaffle or making blunders, Fred and Seamus had almost spent the entire practice session cursing at each other. They didn’t get along at all; they fumbled their way through, with one always giving orders the other refused to follow.

Harry was having an abysmal time trying to get Fred and Seamus to just play properly, but at least Ron was saved from being in the spotlight too much that evening. After practice, as Ginny and Ron entered the common room, Ron’s eyes quickly found Hermione sitting on one of the couches, as usual, surrounded by her books. Since their conversation a couple of days ago, they hadn’t really talked much, but at least he had asked her if she was ignoring him, to which she had said no.

After that conversation, Ron had only one thought in his head: how could he have asked such an embarrassing question? At least she hadn’t said yes. Hermione always looked busy, mostly studying. It suited her—she looked beautiful when she studied. When she caught his eye, he smiled at her before making his way to the dorms, leaving Ginny behind.

When Ron entered the dorm, it was empty. Harry had stayed behind with Fred and Seamus, probably still trying to make them play. Dean was with them, but Ron didn’t know where Neville was. After changing into his usual clothes and freshening up, he returned to the dorm, but still, no one was there. He planned on doing his homework in the common room, hoping Hermione would still be there, so he took out some parchment and tried to find his Transfiguration book. When he couldn’t, he remembered that Neville had borrowed it earlier that morning.

Ron looked at Neville’s side table, where there were a few books. No harm would come from checking to see if his book was there—it wasn’t like invading privacy. What could possibly be private with Neville, right? With that thought in mind, he shuffled through the few books, but to his disappointment, he couldn’t find his own. However, something fell out of one of Neville’s books. It looked like a letter, neatly folded. Ron picked it up to put it back in the book, but he noticed something—a name that intrigued him enough to unfold the rest of the letter.

Dear Hermione,

I know I should tell you this in person, but I would just be a nervous wreck, mumbling half the things I want to say. But I still want you to know this.

Hermione, you’ve been a shining star to me since the first time I saw you. You helped me find Trevor the moment we met. You were sitting with Harry—it was your compartment that I entered when I was looking for Trevor, and you instantly tagged along to help me. You were always there when I needed help during lectures, during Potions class, and sometimes with homework. You never asked me any questions; you never made me feel dumb or like I always needed your help. You were just there whenever I needed someone.

One day, I asked for your help when I didn’t even need it—because I just wanted to be with you. That day, I realized that I liked being around you, Hermione, and that made me ask you to be my date for the Yule Ball. I couldn’t get to you first, but this time I managed to. This time, I managed to be your date, and believe me, Hermione, I’ve been impatiently waiting for that day. As I write this letter in anticipation, I plan to give it to you that night, and I’ll try my very best to tell you that I like you.

Neville

Ron instantly regretted reading the letter. He folded it as neatly as he could in a hurry and put it back in one of the books, almost throwing them onto the table as he retreated to his bed. As he sank into it, a lot of thoughts began swirling in his head, and one of them was: how would Hermione react to Neville’s revelation? Would she accept Neville’s feelings? Would she see how genuine, caring, and sweet Neville was and fall for him? What if she had already fallen for Neville and was just waiting for him to confess? Maybe that’s the reason she had been avoiding him, right?

Or maybe Neville had already proposed, but she rejected him. But if that were the case, the letter wouldn’t be here. He would’ve already given it to her. But since she never received it, she doesn’t know. So, how is she going to react to Neville liking her? Does that mean, Ron, you should hurry up before Neville proposes and she accepts him?

But why would she accept you, Ron, even if you proposed before Neville? What makes you think she would? But she wouldn’t accept Neville either. Remember, she told you herself when you asked her on Yule Ball day if she liked Neville. She said she liked him just as a friend. But that can change, right? Or maybe not. Maybe friends can’t become boyfriends. That means you don’t have a chance either.

Just forget about all this, Ron thought as he shook his head. He should’ve never read the letter in the first place. It was Neville’s—it was personal. He shouldn’t have done that.

As he was thinking, someone entered the dorm—it was Neville, with a bag slung over his shoulder. Neville saw Ron sitting on his bed and walked toward him. Ron apprehensively looked at Neville as he approached. Ron waited patiently for him to say something as Neville rummaged through his bag before taking out a battered book and handing it to Ron.

Ron looked dumbly at the book. It looked old and worn—it was his Transfiguration book.

“Thanks for lending me the book this morning,” Neville said, looking tired.

Ron took the book and nodded at Neville, who smiled before going to his four-poster bed. Ron stared at the book for a long time before deciding to go to sleep. He would do his homework the next day, meet Hermione in another lifetime, and never face Neville again, as he was just too embarrassed, confused, and nervous after reading that letter.

..

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

Hermione Granger

Hermione was wrapping the gift she bought for Ron—tomorrow was his birthday. Last month had been hectic, but she hadn’t done too many embarrassing things in front of Ron. They were both far too busy to really talk. He was spending every free evening practicing for Quidditch, and when he wasn’t playing, he was studying. She was a bit surprised, but at the same time not really. It was O.W.L.s; at some point, even someone like Ron was supposed to take them seriously.

He asked for her help with studying, and she was more than happy to give it. Her heart still fluttered when she was around him, but she somehow managed to stop herself from doing anything strange—like hugging or touching him. Except this evening. That wasn’t her fault—it was those wretched twins’.

Earlier that day, Hermione, as usual, was standing at the entrance to their common room, waiting for Ron so they could do their corridor patrol. She was getting impatient as she looked at her watch—it was already five minutes past, then another five. He was never this late. She never liked people being late, but with Ron, she disliked it even more. How could he sometimes be so careless and irresponsible?

Just as she was about to go on her own to complete the duty given to her, somebody blocked her view. It was the twins, both panting and trying to catch their breath. One of them spoke just as she was about to ask what happened.

“Ron… ah, Ron—”

“Ron?” she asked, looking at them. Anxiety was starting to twist in her chest. “What about him?”

“Ronnikins—” said the other twin, but he didn’t finish the sentence. Hermione’s anxiety was soaring.

“What happened to him?” she asked again, her voice coming out shrilly.

“Ron—oh God,” said the twin on her right. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. “Why, of all people, Ron?”

Now Hermione was truly worried and scared. What might have happened to Ron? If he was injured, he was more than likely in the hospital wing. But instead of running immediately after making that deduction, she asked, “Where is he?”

“Hospital—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish the word. She started running.

The twins looked worried, and if the twins were worried, that meant Ron must have been badly hurt. She didn’t even realize when she barged into the hospital wing, frantically scanning for him. Then she spotted red hair on one of the beds. She flung open the drapes and found Ron unconscious. He had bandages on his right hand.

Hermione didn’t know what came over her. As she looked at Ron, who was clearly in pain, she felt her control slipping. He most probably had a broken hand, but she didn’t want to put things off anymore. She didn’t want to stop herself from doing what she wanted. So she leaned in and kissed him.

A moment later, she realized he was kissing her back. When she opened her eyes and broke the kiss, Ron’s eyes were half-open, and he was smiling.

Then, a moment later, his eyes closed again, and he was asleep.

Hermione froze as the realization hit her, then bolted out of the hospital wing.

When she reached the common room, out of breath, she saw the twins sitting in one of the armchairs. As soon as they saw her, they made a beeline toward her.

“So how’s Ronnikins?” asked one of the twins cheekily.

“He’s fine,” she replied curtly. Without giving them any more attention, she headed straight for her dorm.

Now, as Hermione finished wrapping Ron’s present, her thoughts came to a stop. The only good thing about today was that she had kissed Ron. But at the same time… she had kissed him when he was unconscious. Yes, he kissed her back, but he had been half-asleep. He might not have even known what he was doing.

So… Hermione Granger had kissed a boy who was unconscious, not fully knowing what was happening. That was bad, wasn’t it?

Ron Weasley

Ron had been far too busy the past month with everything, and tomorrow was his birthday. He planned to spend it relaxing. After reading Neville’s letter, Ron had decided to be the best guy he could be—because Neville was competition. He didn’t want to lose, not this time. Hermione was someone he could not lose, not at any cost.

So he was doing his best to study, to show her he wasn’t always irresponsible. He asked for help when he needed it, and the way Hermione explained things to him always made his heart skip a beat.

He stopped a Quaffle as his thoughts came to a halt. Their practice session was about to end. He had to patrol with Hermione soon, and he looked forward to it. Who knew Ron would ever enjoy prefect duties? Only because Hermione made them not boring.

He went for the last Quaffle of the evening, but he lost his grip on his broomstick. The next moment, he found himself on the ground—his arm broken, of course.

The twins and Ginny brought him to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey bandaged his arm and hand, gave him potions, and then shooed away his siblings. A moment later, after they left, he fell asleep because of the potions.

He felt something soft pressing on his lips. He liked the feel of it—it was like someone was caressing him. Then he saw a blurred image of Hermione. It felt so right, so he responded instinctively, kissing back. But a moment later, it stopped, and he slipped back into sleep.

He woke up the next morning to find himself surrounded by his siblings, Fred and George singing a ridiculous “Happy Birthday Ronnikins” song, Ginny clapping along. Madam Pomfrey berated them, but then they all enjoyed breakfast and cake. By the afternoon, he was discharged.

He had hoped a certain someone would visit him, but she didn’t. If she came, it was only in his dreams. But when he went to rest in his dorm, he found a box wrapped in blue glittering paper on his bedside table. A sticky note was pasted on it: Happy Birthday, Ron.

It was from Hermione. His heart soared.

Her absence had made him anxious, but this gift—this meant something, right? He opened it to find a miniature Firebolt. He chuckled as he looked at the broomstick. Inside was a note: Sorry, I can only afford this on my pocket money.

He chuckled again. How could he love this girl so much?

Love?

Yes. As Ron looked at the broomstick, in his heart he knew he did.

He rushed out of his dorm to find Hermione. Luckily, he saw Lavender coming out of her dorm.

“Is Hermione upstairs?” he asked.

“No, she isn’t,” Lavender replied. “Oh—I heard it’s your birthday. Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks,” Ron said, before bolting out of the common room.

If Hermione wasn’t in her dorm, she had to be in the library. But for once, she wasn’t. He searched everywhere for her, but after hours of looking, he gave up.

Finally, around five, he returned to the Gryffindor common room and found her coming out of her dorm, six books in her arms and her bag slung over her shoulder—the usual sight. Instinctively, he walked over and took the books from her.

“Geez, Hermione. They’re heavy,” he said. To be fair, they always were.

Instead of replying cheekily, she just started walking. She didn’t say a word. When they reached the library, she found her usual spot and sat down. Ron put the books on the table and was about to speak when she said:

“Ron, I’m far too busy right now to do anything else, if you don’t mind?”

“Yeah, alright—I just wanted to say something,” Ron said.

“Yeah?” Hermione asked, biting her lower lip.

“Thanks for the gift,” Ron said.

Hermione looked a bit disappointed for a moment before smiling. “It was my pleasure.”

“Right, so I won’t disturb you. You can get back to your studies,” he said, and left.

That evening, Ron headed to the Great Hall for dinner. He was starving and ate to his heart’s content, but he didn’t see Harry anywhere—not even after he’d finished. Hermione would just starve herself to read five more bullet points for the exam. Realizing Harry wasn’t coming, Ron grabbed a napkin and some food.

When he entered the library, he found Hermione hunched over her books. He walked over and put the food on the table.

Hermione Granger

As Ron left the library earlier, Hermione finally relaxed. She had been avoiding him. She couldn’t properly wish him happy birthday because things were too awkward. Every time she thought of him—or saw him—the kiss came back to her mind. It was hard not to think about his lips when he was right there next to her.

When he carried her books to the library, she thought for sure he was about to mention the kiss. But he didn’t. She felt a mix of disappointment and relief. Maybe they would never have to talk about it? After all, she had kissed him without his permission.

But he kissed you back.

Yes, but he was half-asleep. He might not have even known what he was doing.

For the next hour, she tried her best to focus on her textbooks, but it was difficult.

As she was about to call it a day and head to her dorm, someone placed food on the table. She looked up, expecting Harry.

But it was Ron.

Her heart skipped a beat the moment she saw him. She instantly looked down at the food and said, “Thank you.”

“Hermione, I know you love studying, but at least you shouldn’t starve yourself,” Ron said. She didn’t look up. He was probably rubbing the back of his neck right now.

“I was just about to go to the Great Hall,” Hermione lied—she had actually been about to go to her dorm.

“Oh—so shall we?” Ron asked. When she looked at him, he was watching her expectantly as he gathered her stuff. “Why don’t you eat what I brought you first?”

She just nodded. Hermione’s mind was running wild. One thought refused to leave her alone: the kiss. The kiss Ron didn’t even seem to remember.

“How’s your arm now?” Hermione blurted out. It was completely out of nowhere. Why was she asking that?

“My arm?” Ron looked confused.

“You got hurt yesterday,” Hermione said.

“Oh—you knew?” Ron replied with a nervous smile. “I thought you didn’t.”

Hermione now realized Ron didn’t actually remember. He didn’t even recall her visiting him yesterday. That’s why he wasn’t acting differently—he didn’t remember the kiss. Should she tell him what happened? Wouldn’t that be stupid? She had kissed him out of nowhere! Wouldn’t that basically be confessing her feelings right now? What if he didn’t share them? Their friendship could end, and she liked it too much to risk that.

“Hermione—Hermione.” She saw a hand waving and heard Ron calling her name. She must have zoned out.

“What?” Hermione said, snapping out of her daze. “Oh—yes, I did.”

“Oh—then did you visit me yesterday?” Ron asked. He looked at her. Now Hermione had the chance to come clean. She should definitely show some Gryffindor courage and…

“Sorry, I couldn’t,” she said instead. She chickened out.

Ron looked a little disappointed before masking it with a smile. “Oh—that’s alright. I was mostly asleep.” He had gathered all her stuff and then placed the bacon he’d brought into her hand. “Now, why don’t you eat?”

Hermione nodded before taking it. After that, they both went downstairs to the Great Hall.

It had been two months since the kiss took place. Hermione didn’t think about it much, as Ron didn’t know about it, and she managed to act as normal as possible around him. She kept herself busy with her studies.

Ron’s first Quidditch match had been two days ago, and he had performed well enough. They won, and their next match against Hufflepuff was in two weeks, so they were training more than usual.

Now, the two of them were walking side by side on patrol. They were just about to return to their common room when they heard the sound of a girl’s giggle. They looked at each other, both knowing very well what it meant.

Ron looked like he wasn’t interested in handing out detention at the moment, as he muttered, “Let’s just leave them, Hermione?”

Hermione shook her head and opened the classroom door, with Ron following behind. Maybe she should have listened to him.

The sight before her was not something she ever wanted to witness—especially not with Ron at her side.

Harry and Ginny were glued to each other. Ginny was sitting on a desk while Harry kissed her all over her neck, drawing soft moans from her. Neither of them even realized that someone had opened the door and walked in.

Hermione was about to run out of the room and drag Ron with her, but she was too late.

Ron shouted, his voice echoing through the classroom:

“Take your hands off my sister, POTTER!”

..

.

to be continued..

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven

Ron Weasley

“Get your hands off my sister, POTTER!” Ron shouted. Before Hermione could stop him, he was already striding toward Ginny and Harry. Ginny looked up to see him; she looked annoyed, but he couldn’t care less. This was one thing he was not going to let go. He only saw red—he could not let Ginny date a Potter. He just couldn’t.

Potter, on the other hand, was first confused. Then, seeing Ron, he straightened himself. Ron had already drawn his wand. He was going to curse the bloody hell out of Potter.

But as he cast the spell, someone stepped between him and Potter—and took the hit. It was Hermione. Ron froze as he realized who he had struck. Hermione looked up at him, her face red, and in an instant she started gagging as a slug forced its way out of her mouth.

Potter rushed to her side, horrified. When he realized Hermione was retching slugs, he didn’t hesitate—he lunged at Ron and punched him in the face. Ron barely registered what was happening before he was brawling with Harry, both of them on the floor, throwing punches, until Ginny’s shout cut through the chaos:

“STOP!”

Neither of them listened. But then they both froze mid-fight as a spell struck them. It was Hermione. Still retching slugs, she forced out, “Ginny—ugh—take Harry out of—ugh, ugh—here.”

Ginny looked like she wasn’t going to listen to anybody, her wand already raised to jinx Ron. But Hermione added a weak, “Please,” still gagging. Ginny finally obeyed.

As Hermione unfroze Harry, he shouted, “Let’s go to the infirmary first. Weasley, I’ll deal with you later.”

“No—ugh—you two—ugh—I’ll follow,” Hermione managed, struggling to speak.

“No, you’re coming with us. I’m not leaving you here with this douche,” Harry snapped, glaring at Ron.

“Just—ugh—go—”

“I’m not leaving—”

“Just go.”

“Hermione—”

“Just—ugh—GO!”

“You will pay for this,” Potter said to Ron as he left with Ginny.

Once they were gone, Hermione released Ron from the spell. He rushed to her side, but she pushed him away.

“How—ugh—do I stop this?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know,” Ron admitted, guilt twisting inside him.

“Then—ugh—the infirmary it is,” Hermione said as she staggered toward the door.

Ron followed her, carefully placing her hand on his shoulder. She looked ready to push him away again, but he muttered, “Just to the infirmary. I’ll leave you alone after that.”

She let him. He guided her there, while she fought not to throw up any more slugs.

Hermione Granger

Hermione woke up in the hospital wing, and as she remembered last night, her anger at Ron still hadn’t gone. She understood his being protective of his sister, but hadn’t he learned anything from the last incident? Or did he just like interfering in Ginny’s life? When would he mature enough to understand she was her own person—that she would have boyfriends regardless of what he wanted?

When Madam Pomfrey told her she was free to go, Hermione got out of bed. Outside in the corridor, she saw Ron standing there. She ignored him and walked past, but he followed and said, “I’m really sorry about what happened last night.”

“Are you?” Hermione asked, turning around. “Now you won’t try to curse my brother or badger Ginny for not dating who you want?”

“I am,” Ron replied, but then added, “I won’t curse Potter—if he stops seeing Ginny.”

Hermione hadn’t been expecting that response, but before she could say anything, Harry appeared out of nowhere, wand pointed at Ron. “Back off, Weasley.”

Ron just walked off instead of fighting or saying anything.

“Why was he here?” Harry asked as he put his wand away.

“To apologise,” Hermione said, watching Ron turn the corner. She was still baffled by what Ron had said.

“He should,” Harry agreed. “But you shouldn’t be his friend anymore.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“He’s a prat—you saw him last night.”

“No, he isn’t. He just doesn’t like seeing his sister with guys,” Hermione sighed. “An immature trait, but it is what it is.”

“Yeah, immature,” Harry snorted. “I won’t go around jinxing the guys you date. I didn’t like Krum, but I didn’t hex him.”

“But you never caught us in the act,” Hermione said.

“You kissed that guy,” Harry nearly shouted, eyes bulging.

“See? You’re overreacting too,” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.

“Because that guy was—never mind,” Harry began, but stopped when Hermione glared at him to continue if he dared. Instead, he muttered, “Though I won’t mind you dating guys.”

“Very mature of you. Thank you so much for your approval,” Hermione said.

“Except that Weasley,” Harry added as he started walking away. Hermione didn’t say anything, just shook her head.

As Hermione’s day went along, she noticed odd looks and overheard people whispering her and Harry’s names. Ron was nowhere to be seen in classes that day. Harry was mostly with her, except during her Arithmancy class. After finishing that last class of the day, she mulled over what Ron had said. It seemed he wasn’t going to let Ginny and Harry’s relationship go easily—he would fight against it as much as he could. But even he must know he couldn’t really do much.

Didn’t he?

Just when everything had been going smoothly, this had to happen. Only two days ago Gryffindor had beaten Ravenclaw by a good margin, and Ron had played well. He had been happy. Her studies were going well, too. Just another month and she would be sitting her O.W.L.s. And now this, dampening her mood. But why was she thinking about it so much? Surely in a day or two Ron would realise he was just being a pig and let it go. Still, why had he skipped classes? With O.W.L.s so close, how could he be this irresponsible? She would have to talk some sense into him—hopefully he would realise he was wrong. In a few days there was a Hogsmeade visit; hopefully she could enjoy it with him.

When she entered the common room, she saw people gathered in groups, gossiping. Some turned to look at her.

“That’s Hermione.”

“Shut up, she’ll hear you.”

She spotted Harry coming down the stairs from his dormitory. “You don’t want to know why they’re talking,” he said at her quizzical look.

“Why’s that? Now I’m curious.”

“Hermione, there you are,” said Lavender Brown.

“Yes?” Hermione replied.

“I didn’t want to disturb you during classes,” Lavender said. She looked like she’d been dying to tell her all day. “Did you hear what happened?”

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

Ron Weasley

After leaving Hermione, Ron went to look for Ginny. He found her right outside the corridor at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She had just stepped out through the portrait hole when he fell into step beside her. She noticed him but didn’t acknowledge him.

“We need to talk,” Ron said, grabbing her wrist.

“No, we don’t!” Ginny shouted, yanking her arm free.

“Yes, we do,” Ron shot back. Ginny looked a moment away from jinxing him, but Ron wasn’t about to back down. “You can’t go out with him.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Ginny snapped.

“You know why I’m saying this,” Ron argued. “Go out with anybody—but not him. Even Michael Corner, for Merlin’s sake!”

“I’ll go out with whomever I want, and it’s Harry right now!” Ginny shouted. She turned to leave, but Ron grabbed her hand again.

“You know Weasleys don’t go along with Potters,” Ron said through clenched teeth. “So you can’t.”

“What about you?” Ginny demanded, staring into his eyes.

“What about me?” Ron frowned.

“Don’t be a hypocrite. You like Potter’s sister after all.”

“Me? I don’t,” Ron stammered. “And if anything, she’s not a Potter—she’s a Granger.”

“You’re kidding?” Ginny said. “Don’t let Granger hear you, then.”

“You can’t go out with Potter because he’s a Potter. So just stop this,” Ron insisted, his voice rising.

“I don’t give a damn. Will you give up on Hermione just because she’s a Potter?” Ginny shot back.

“But she’s not!” Ron bellowed.

“But she is!” Ginny snapped. “So will you?”

Ron looked stunned by the question. For a moment it seemed like he would say no, but instead he shouted, “I will—if you stop seeing Potter! Now will you?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ginny said, losing her patience. “I’m leaving before I jinx you.”

“You cannot see POTTER! How hard is that to understand?” Ron roared.

Before Ginny could reply, a voice cut in: “Who is seeing Potter?”

It was Fred. At that moment Ron and Ginny both realised nearly the entire Gryffindor common room had overheard their fight through the portrait hole. The twins had arrived just in time to witness it. Ginny flushed with embarrassment, and instead of answering, she just ran down the corridor.

Hermione Granger

Hermione couldn’t believe what she had heard from Lavender. Was Ron really taking it this far? Did he truly believe in whatever stupid grudge this was about? Her parents had told her it was nothing—something that had happened almost two centuries ago. He couldn’t really be serious about it when no one else was. Or did the Weasleys really take it that seriously?

If they did, then Ron had never been interested in her to begin with—because she was also part of the Potter family. But from what Lavender had told her, Ron didn’t believe she was a Potter. That’s why he had been on friendly terms with her. And now, he was willing to give up on her just so he could sabotage Ginny and Harry’s relationship.

Was he always this pathetic? Had she been wrong about him? Was he always like this? And what was his problem with the Potters? If he really hated them, then he couldn’t possibly love her—even if he thought she wasn’t one. But she was a Potter. She would tell him.

“Do you like Ron?” a voice interrupted her thoughts. It was Lavender, looking at her expectantly. Parvati was beside her, polishing her nails.

“Sorry, but I need to go. Can we talk later?” Hermione said. She didn’t wait for a response; she was already out of the dorms. She needed to find Ron.

When she stepped out of the common room through the portrait hole, she saw Ginny Weasley coming up the corridor, followed by her twin brothers, who were both talking at her. Ginny didn’t look the least bit interested. Hermione quickly went downstairs to look for Ron in the Great Hall, but he was nowhere to be seen. Dinner was about to start.

As she was about to leave, she stumbled into someone—it was Draco Malfoy.

“Watch where you’re going, Granger.”

“Sorry,” she replied and hurried out of the hall.

She went back to her common room and waited for Ron to arrive. But even after hours, he didn’t come. When Harry finally did, he carried food in his hands.

“I looked for you in the library,” he said, taking the chair next to her. “Surprisingly, you weren’t there.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said, accepting the food from him.

A couple of hours later, Ron still hadn’t returned. Harry was long gone—she had given him the excuse of studying, spreading her textbooks over the table. Around midnight, the portrait hole opened. Finally, it was Ron.

It looked like he didn’t notice her at first as he started toward the boys’ stairs, but then he stopped, glanced around, and his eyes landed on her. She quickly looked away. He walked over and sat down beside her.

“How was your day?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence that lingered between them for a few minutes. She was hurt by what Ron had said to Ginny earlier, but she wanted to make him see sense. Maybe then everything could be fine.

“Difficult,” Ron replied. “I failed miserably in trying to convince Ginny. I spent the whole day on it. I followed her to her classes—she nearly jinxed me twice, and finally did jinx me by the end of the day. I was in the infirmary all evening.”

Hermione couldn’t believe Ron. He was impossible. How could he be so dense sometimes? What was his problem? He hadn’t behaved this way when Ginny was dating Michael. Hermione was sure it had something to do with that grudge.

“Why are you so adamantly against this?” Hermione asked. She tried to keep calm and patient. She wanted to make him see sense, not explode in anger—though she very much wanted to shout, especially after all the things he had shouted in the corridor earlier.

“Have you heard of the grudge between the Potters and the Weasleys?” Ron asked.

“The grudge?” Hermione snorted. She was right—it was that stupid thing. “Don’t tell me something that happened centuries ago is what’s bothering you.”

“Yes,” Ron said seriously. “It does. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand,” Hermione pressed.

“Hermione—it is what it is. And all I’m asking is for her not to see Potter. Why is that so difficult to understand?”

“It’s difficult because you’re not giving any valid reason,” Hermione said, losing her calm. “A murder that happened centuries ago has nothing to do with Harry and Ginny. So no, it doesn’t make sense for them to break up.”

“It does,” Ron insisted. “It matters.”

“So do you really believe in this grudge between the Potters and the Weasleys?” Hermione asked, hoping he would say no.

“Yes, I do,” Ron admitted, staring at the floor.

“Then why are we friends? I’m a Potter too,” Hermione said, her voice cracking.

“You’re not a Potter—”

“Yes, I am, Ron,” she cut him off. He looked up at her, and she knew she was about to cry.

“Hermione—”

“No, Ron. I am a Potter. I know I’m a Granger, but I’m a Potter as much as I’m a Granger. I’m James and Lily Potter’s daughter. I’m Harry Potter’s sister. I’ll always be a Potter. And if you hate Potters and believe in that stupid grudge, then don’t you think we can’t be friends?”

“Hermione, I just don’t want Ginny to date Harry. I just don’t want them together. That has nothing to do with us—”

“Ron, are you listening to yourself?” she cut him off again, unable to bear his nonsense any longer. “You can’t have it both ways. And from what I’ve heard, you shouted in front of everyone that you would stop being my friend if Ginny broke up with Harry. Doesn’t that already answer everything?”

“Yes. You’re right,” Ron said abruptly, standing up. “It’s my fault. I didn’t see you as a Potter. If I had, I wouldn’t have befriended you. It was a mistake.”

Before Hermione could reply, he left the common room and went upstairs to his dormitory. Hermione just sat there, staring at the stairway to the boys’ dorms. She didn’t even realize when the tears started falling.

For the last three days, Hermione had plunged herself into her studies. She didn’t like doing anything else anymore. She couldn’t even bring herself to eat. Harry had been bringing her food on time—whether it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner—but she still wasn’t able to eat. Whenever she tried, the food tasted awful, and she felt like throwing up. At night, she spent most of her time crying into her pillows. Who knew Ron Weasley could make her feel so many things—hurt her this deeply—just by saying their friendship had been a mistake? That boy was cruel.

It was the Hogsmeade weekend, and Harry had been badgering her since yesterday to see Madam Pomfrey. He had been adamant that very morning, saying he wouldn’t go anywhere until she went to the infirmary. Hermione finally told him that she would definitely go after his Hogsmeade visit. He still insisted she go first, but she managed to talk him out of it by promising she would go in the evening.

So she focused on her studies in the library, in her secluded spot where she always found solace and peace. Her head was already aching, and she thought a short nap wouldn’t hurt, so she laid her head on the table.

When Hermione opened her eyes again, she was staring at the white ceiling of the infirmary. Looking around, she noticed Harry sitting beside her. He smiled when she woke up, but there was a touch of sadness in it.

“I should have dragged you here this morning,” Harry said.

“Oh—did something happen?” Hermione asked. She could sense something was off with him.

“We’ll talk about that later. How are you feeling?” Harry asked.

“Better than this morning. The headache’s gone, and believe me when I say this—I’m actually hungry right now.” Hermione replied. She wanted to press Harry about what had happened, but she decided to wait.

“Just give me a minute,” Harry said. A couple of minutes later, he returned with a full plate of food courtesy of Madam Pomfrey. After Hermione had eaten her fill, she asked again, “So now tell me.”

“Ginny and I broke up,” Harry said with a sigh.

“What? Why?” Hermione asked, surprised. Did Ginny cave in to Ron’s demands? She didn’t think Ginny was the type to give up so easily.

“Well, when we were out in Hogsmeade, we stumbled into Ginny’s father,” Harry explained. “They had a conversation, and later, when Ginny and I met again, she just said she couldn’t go out with me.”

“Oh—that really happened?” Hermione asked, finding the situation a bit ridiculous.

“Yes, it did. Hard to believe, right?” Harry said with a fake laugh. Hermione thought it over. So Ginny had given up because of her father?

“I can’t believe him,” Hermione said angrily.

“Yeah, me neither. But maybe if her father doesn’t approve of me, what can she do?” Harry replied.

“I’m talking about Ron! How could he drag his father into this?” Hermione said, her anger at Ron flaring again.

“At the end of the day, her father was going to find out anyway. His opinion wouldn’t have changed,” Harry reasoned.

“No, Harry—it matters. It was Ginny’s place to tell her parents, to let them see things from her perspective. But Ron did nothing except betray his own sister!” Hermione snapped. She was done with Ron. That very afternoon, she had been feeling pathetic because of his rejection. But now—now she was furious with him for being such a complete and utter douche.

..

To be continued..

Chapter Text

Chapter twelve

Ron Weasley

"Ginny is dating Harry?" asked George.

"Yes, she is," replied Ron. "It's our job to make sure that they break up."

"Ron—don't you think that would be absurd?" Fred said.

"See, we don't want Ginny to cuddle up to boys yet either, but eventually she will—"

"It's Potter," Ron cut Fred off. "Are you forgetting what Dad told us? To make sure we stay away from Potters, and especially that Ginny stays away from Potter."

"But that's because of the grudge which is really nothing more than a prank now, Ron," George replied.

"It isn't nothing—you just don't know. Anyway, we have to convince her," Ron said, as he walked away from them to follow Ginny. He shadowed her the whole day, from class to class, and she was really annoyed. She even tried to hex him twice—once with the Bat-Bogey Hex, and another time with a spell he had never heard of before. He finally caught her coming out of Herbology class. He stopped her by standing in front of her. Luna Lovegood was with her, and Luna said, "Hello, Ron."

"Hello, Luna. Can I talk to Ginny here for a min—"

"You cannot," Ginny cut him off, grabbing Luna's hand to walk away. But Ron ran in front of them and started walking backwards.

"Ginny, I'm just asking you for this one thing. Just this one thing—I'll never ask you to do anything else ever again. I'll be your slave my whole life if you want me to be. Just please—break up with him."

Ginny stopped in her tracks and looked at Ron for a minute, then said, "Why are you trying so hard, Ron?"

"Please. Just do as I say," Ron replied.

"Give me a reason," Ginny demanded.

"He's not a good guy. He doesn't deserve you," Ron answered.

Ginny just snorted. "Ron, just go away."

"Why can't you just listen to your older brother?" Ron shouted.

"When the older brother is being dumb, it's the younger sibling's duty to ignore him," Ginny shot back, waving him off.

"You know what? I'll just have to knock some sense into Potter then," Ron shouted.

"You will not," Ginny shouted back.

"I will," Ron said, walking away from her.

"If you touch him, I'm going to hex you into oblivion."

"You'd better get ready then—" But Ginny clearly had no patience left, and a stinging hex knocked him down. His whole back was burning and aching, and he had to spend the next few hours in Madam Pomfrey's care.

Just before midnight, Ron finally left the infirmary. Instead of going into the Gryffindor common room, he sat in an empty classroom for a few hours, waiting until he thought the common room would be deserted.

When he returned at midnight and walked towards the stairs to his dorm, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Glancing over, he saw Hermione looking at her books. Instead of going up, he sat down beside her. Maybe he shouldn't have—he had said hurtful things to her. He hadn't wanted to, but he hadn't had a choice. He couldn't explain why he was doing what he was doing.

In the next two days, he kept trying to convince Ginny but failed over and over. Fred and George had already given up, saying, "Harry's a nice guy. We'll just keep an eye on him for now." Ron didn't ask for their help either. They didn't understand.

When he realized there was no other way to convince Ginny, he decided to drag his father into this. He sent a letter to his dad, telling him about Ginny and Potter's relationship and that a Hogsmeade visit was scheduled in just two days.

When the day came, Ron didn't go to Hogsmeade. He hadn't received a letter from his father, but he knew his dad would show up no matter what.

As Ron was coming downstairs, he saw Hermione carrying books and leaving through the portrait the look of it She had skipped Hogsmeade visit too. He secretly followed her. Now that he had a proper chance to look at her, he noticed she didn't look alright. She looked pale. He hadn't thought much about her before—Ginny had been occupying most of his mind—but now that he saw Hermione, he felt a pang of guilt. He knew it was partly because of him; he had been hurtful.

He watched from afar as she studied in her usual spot. When she placed her head on the table and didn't wake up for the next half an hour, he got worried. He sat beside her, touched her forehead—it was burning hot. Her cheeks and wrist were hot too. Up close, she looked even paler. He tried to wake her, but she didn't respond. Gently, Ron scooped her into his arms and rushed her to the hospital wing.

"Mam? Mam!" he shouted.

"Here, here," Madam Pomfrey said, seeing him carrying Hermione. She gestured to a nearby empty bed.

"Look at her—she's burning up! She's pale, she looks like she hasn't been eating properly," Ron rambled.

"Yes, yes—but first, please put her on the bed," Madam Pomfrey instructed.

"Yes," Ron replied, gently laying Hermione down.

"Now let me check her," Madam Pomfrey said, closing the drapes around the bed. Ron waited impatiently for the next few minutes until she came out.

"How is she?" Ron asked, worried.

"She'll be alright," Madam Pomfrey replied. "She has a fever. It looks like she hasn't eaten anything for the last few days."

"Oh—now she'll be fine, right? She'll be able to eat—" Ron asked.

"Yes, of course, dear," Madam Pomfrey replied kindly. Ron sat beside Hermione for half an hour, watching her. Then he went back to the library, gathered her books, and brought them to the infirmary, placing them on the table next to her. As people began returning from Hogsmeade, he decided it was best to leave. He wanted to stay until she opened her eyes, but even he knew she wouldn't want to see him.

That evening, when Ron returned to the common room, he went up to his dorm and lay in bed. Suddenly, someone barged in, yanked his drapes open, and shoved a wand in his face.

"What's your problem?" Ginny demanded.

"Nothing," Ron replied simply.

"Why are you behaving like such a baby? You told Dad?" Ginny shouted. She looked furious.

"I am behaving like a baby?" Ron shouted back, sitting up. "You're just fourteen, and you lost one boyfriend, grow up but no you're behaving like such a brat—"

Before he could finish, Ginny slapped him.

"I hate you!" she shouted, then ran out of the room. Ron just stared at the space she had occupied a moment ago, then lay back down.

When he woke next, the early morning sun was spilling into the dorm. After freshening up, he headed downstairs to the Great Hall. Only a few students were there at breakfast. When he finished eating, he decided to head out to the grounds, but stopped short when he saw Hermione standing in front of him.

"I don't understand you one bit. You know that, right?" Hermione said.

"I don't understand myself either," Ron replied.

"Just a week ago, you were transparent. I felt like I knew you. But then you started all this idiotic stuff. You even managed to break them up by telling your father."

"Yes. I did," Ron admitted.

"I thought I didn't know you anymore."

"Yes, you are—wait a minute, you thought?" Ron asked, confused.

"Yes. I mean, I was right about you. You care. You actually do care. So now tell me—what's your reason for being so against this? There must be one." Hermione looked at him the way she did when she was solving a tough Arithmancy problem.

"I don't have one," Ron replied. "I did it because I don't like Potter. And because of the grudge between our families."

"I don't think I believe that anymore," Hermione said.

"Why not?" Ron asked.

"You helped me yesterday," Hermione replied, remembering.

"Thanks for bringing me here, Harry. Why didn't you try waking me up?" Hermione had asked Harry.

"I didn't bring you here. I thought you came by yourself," Harry had replied, surprised.

"You didn't?" Hermione asked.

"No. You fainted, didn't you?" Harry said, worried. "I'm not letting you brush it off next time you look sick."

"Alright," Hermione said. Still, she kept thinking about who had brought her. When Madam Pomfrey came to check on her again—while Harry was in the washroom—Hermione asked, "Who brought me here?"

"That young boy, Weasley," Madam Pomfrey answered, handing her a potion.

"Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, him. I can't believe he isn't here. He looked so worried when he brought you," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Anyone would've done the same," Ron muttered, staring at the floor.

"But no one else would've noticed. Hardly anyone comes to that corner of the library. Harry could've found me, but you did. Which means you came to see me—or were you just there?" Hermione asked.

"I came to see you," Ron admitted. He pulled out a book—it was her Potions book. She had lent it to him a few days ago for an assignment.

"Still—"

"Hermione, there's no other reason. I wanted Ginny and Potter to break up because I don't like Potter. Yes, I know it seems childish, but that's all there is to it. I don't like him," Ron said firmly.

"But it can't be just that," Hermione argued.

"But it is," Ron said.

"So you don't have anything else to say?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. Nothing," Ron replied.

"This is your last chance, Ron. After this, I promise you—I'll never talk to you again if that's really your reason."

"Okay," Ron said, and walked past her.

Hermione Granger

After her conversation with Ron, she gave up on it. She didn't have the patience to deal with him; he was being stubborn and childish, and she had to accept that maybe that's who he really was—and that was all there was to it. Hermione found Ginny in the Gryffindor common room, sitting by the window, and decided to sit beside her. She didn't say anything, just sat there.

"What do you want to talk about?" Ginny asked as she looked at Hermione.

"Nothing," Hermione replied.

"I can't believe that you like my brother," Ginny said.

"I told you, I don't like—"

"I already know." Ginny cut her off. "Pretending not to like him isn't going to solve this."

Hermione sighed before saying, "Yes, you are right. I do like him. But what's the point now? He doesn't want anything to do with us Potters."

"Yeah, right. Maybe with time he'll grow a brain cell or two," Ginny replied.

"Hope so. But I plan on moving on from him," Hermione said.

"You'd better," Ginny said. "Because you deserve better than a stubborn pig."

"What about you?" Hermione asked. Ginny just shrugged her shoulders.

"I like Harry, but it's not the end of the world if I can't go out with him. There are plenty of boys out there. Same goes for him—I mean, there are plenty of girls for him." Ginny replied, though she didn't look enthusiastic about the idea.

"You're dealing with it far better than I thought you would," Hermione said, genuinely impressed.

"I have to," Ginny replied. Hermione just sat in silence with her.

The year ended without anything else happening. Ron had played the last game against Hufflepuff, which they won, but from what Harry told her, it looked like he wouldn't play next year. For the last two months Hermione had done her prefect duties with a sixth-year prefect, as Ron had asked Professor McGonagall to change his schedule. It looked like Ron was avoiding everyone.

Hermione was able to give her OWLs without any problems except for a few doubts here and there. She was sure that she would get Outstandings in almost everything. Next year she would be able to take her preferred subjects to prepare for her NEWTs. That summer, she planned on drawing up a schedule for just that. She missed Ron, but with time the feeling was fading, and she was happy for it. Because as much as she liked Ron, she needed to forget him now.

Five years ago

Ron came running down to the drawing room, where his father was waiting for him with his three brothers, Percy and the twins.

"Boys, you know you have to stay away from Potter. No trouble?" his dad said.

"But Dad, what if we are in the same house?" Ron asked. From what he had heard, Harry Potter was the same age as him, so more than likely they would be sharing a dorm.

"You can talk to him if it's because of classes or Quidditch, but other than that, stay away from him," Arthur Weasley replied. Ron didn't like the idea—who was he supposed to make friends with then, if the one boy he had already heard about was off limits?

When the conversation was over, they were all leaving, but his father stopped him to talk alone.

"Ron, listen—you're closest to Ginny," Arthur said.

"Yes, Dad," Ron replied.

"When she goes to Hogwarts, you have to keep an eye on her," Arthur said.

"Really?" Ron replied. Now he had to babysit her at Hogwarts too?

"If she makes friends with Harry Potter, you have to let me know," Arthur said.

"Dad, but—"

"No. Promise me. If it happens, you will let me know," Arthur said, looking stern.

"Okay, Dad." Ron didn't want to promise, but his father looked so serious.

Later that night, when Ron was hungry, he came downstairs as usual to get a late-night snack. But he heard voices coming from the kitchen—it was his father and mother.

"Do you really have to ask the children not to make friends with Potters? What would be so wrong about it? They're kids," Molly asked.

"You don't understand," Arthur replied.

"No, I do. Just because you have a feud between your families, and which is centuries old, you don't have to do this," Molly said, looking frustrated.

"It's not just that." Arthur looked grave as he said, "There's a curse."

"A curse?" Molly looked puzzled.

"Yes, a curse. If Ginny ends up marrying into the Potter family, she will meet the same fate as Annabeth Weasley," Arthur said.

"How do you know this?" Molly asked.

"The curse has been talked about for the last two centuries," Arthur said. "But no one really believed in it. Since Ginny was born, though, I've been having nightmares of her dying, just like Annabeth. That's what scares me."

"Oh God. That can't happen—not to my daughter," Molly said firmly.

"Yes, it will not. I'll make sure of it," Arthur replied, placing a comforting hand on Molly.

Ron silently crept back upstairs and slipped into his room silently, and thought he just needed to avoid Potter.

..

Part One Ends.

to be continued.. In part 2.

Chapter Text

Part 2

Chapter One

Hermione Granger

Hermione found herself on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for the last time—it was her final year. This was the year she would graduate and finally be able to pursue her career. It was an important year for her. Last year, she had been able to enjoy life a bit, but this year was bound to be hectic, with NEWTs only a year away. On top of everything, she had the responsibilities of being Head Girl.

"Hermy, will you write me letters?" It was Violet who asked her. She was five now.

"I told you not to call me that," Hermione said sternly to Vi, who only giggled and, with her puppy eyes, said, "Please."

"Okay, I'll write to you," Hermione said, smiling at her little sister.

"Yes, send me a few as well." It was her father who spoke, clearly listening to their conversation.

"Of course, Dad," Hermione replied brightly, as her father gave her a half hug—his other hand busy holding her trunk.

Soon, Hermione's mother arrived, along with Harry and Sirius.

"Hermione, love. It feels so surreal sending you off for the last time," her mother said as she reached them.

"To me too," Hermione replied. She looked thoughtful as she continued, "On top of everything, I have just one year to prepare for NEWTs, which practically decide our whole lives, and now they've made me Head Girl, which will take away some of my precious time."

"Hermione, don't worry. You'll manage," Lily reassured her.

"Like she didn't want to be Head Girl," Harry muttered under his breath. Both Hermione and Lily glared at him, and Harry quickly made his goodbyes as he boarded the train.

"Who's the Head Boy, though?" Sirius asked as he helped Hermione lift her trunk onto the train.

"It's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

As Hermione said his name, Malfoy came up behind her and said, "Granger, don't be late to our meeting," before walking straight down the train corridor.

"That's him," Sirius muttered. "Looks like a ponce. Can't believe he and I are related."

"Yes. And apparently, he thinks he's my superior?" Hermione asked, annoyed at the mere suggestion she might ever be late to anything.

"Don't worry, I know you can easily beat him in a duel," Sirius said. "If it ever comes to that, please turn him into a ferret."

"Alright," Hermione replied. She stepped back out onto the platform to say her goodbyes. Her mother hugged her tightly, and her father wrapped his arms around them both. In the middle, Vi was sandwiched between them, and then Harry came up, asking what they were doing. Sirius's voice answered, "Don't know, but looks fun," as he pulled Harry into the group hug.

When Hermione found the compartment where her meeting was to take place, Malfoy was already there, sitting as though he owned the place. He lazily waved at her.

"Granger."

"Malfoy," she replied, taking the seat opposite him. After a minute, she said, "Our meeting will start in five minutes." She pulled out the list of prefects from all the houses. "First things first—we'll need to draw up a schedule and assign respective duties to the prefects."

Hermione continued, reading from the detailed overview of Head duties, but Malfoy gave no response. When she looked up, she found only a look of complete disinterest on his face.

"Granger," Malfoy finally said, "can't you just keep your mouth shut until the end of the meeting? I'll manage. Just nod your head along."

"Malfoy, if you think I'm just here to nod along, then you're mistaken because—"

"Then I'll nod along," Malfoy cut her off, examining his nails. "I don't really care much either way. You do it, or I do it. I don't work in a team."

Hermione almost pointed out that he'd happily played Quidditch, which was a team game, but she realised it was better this way. If she had to do it alone and he would simply nod along, then fine.

"Alright, that works for me," Hermione said. "Just nod along then."

Soon enough, the prefects began arriving. The first pair were Ravenclaw sixth-years. Within five minutes, everyone had arrived, and the meeting went smoothly as Hermione assigned their duties. When the meeting ended and the prefects filed out, Malfoy stood up and left the compartment without a word.

Hermione sat for a moment before running after him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To my compartment. It's a long trip, and I'd rather spend it with people I actually like," he drawled.

"What? We have a job to do. We're supposed to patrol for the next two hours," Hermione reminded him sharply.

"No, you have a job to do. I thought we had an agreement," he replied, stepping closer.

"So I'm supposed to do everything on my own—even our shared duties?" Hermione snapped, growing angry. "That's ridiculous."

"I told you, I'm not a team guy," Malfoy said firmly. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Either you nod, or I nod. I'll give you another chance—who nods along? Me or you?" He was only inches away now.

Before Hermione could reply, the compartment door to her left banged open with a startling thud. She was startled, and so was Malfoy. A tall figure stepped between them, blocking her view, and a familiar voice said, "Stop blocking the doorway."

It was Ron.

She heard Malfoy mutter, "Sod off, Weasley," but Ron ignored him. Turning, he simply said, "Will you step aside?"

Hermione just stood there, shell-shocked. It had been nearly a year since Ron had spoken to her directly. Despite being in the same house and sharing classes, they hadn't interacted once last year.

It took Hermione a moment to register Ron's words. When their eyes met, he tilted his head slightly, and she instinctively stepped aside to let him pass. As Ron left, Malfoy was glaring daggers at the back of his head.

"I'll do it," Hermione muttered. It wasn't like I liked being around this ferret. It was better to do it all alone than suffer in the company of this ponce. She would rather handle the patrols alone than leave everything undone. She wasn't one to shirk responsibility, and she knew Malfoy was using her sense of duty to his advantage.

His smirk was infuriating. "Good luck, Granger." With that, he left.

Hermione sighed and started patrolling on her own. The sooner she finished her rounds, the sooner she could get back to her books.

After she was done with her prefect duties, she found solace in the compartment where the meeting was held. As she was the only one there, she took out her planner and started making some changes—it looked like she would be far too busy with her Head Girl duties, especially since a ferret was not going to be helpful. She sometimes didn't understand why anyone in their right mind would appoint Malfoy as one. There was Anthony—he could've become one, as he was a far better choice. Why did it have to be the ferret?

She heard someone sliding open the compartment door. It was Ginny, who said, "Found you."

Right, Ginny was her friend now. The two of them had somehow bonded over what had happened at the end of their fifth year. They both felt betrayed by Ron, and that gave them common ground to connect. Ginny being an outgoing person had probably helped that.

"I need your help," Ginny asked as she sat beside her.

"I'm listening," Hermione replied, putting her planner down.

"So, I might have jinxed somebody—purely accidental," Ginny started.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"A really weird guy. He had been following me since I boarded the train," Ginny replied.

"Okay, what happened to him?" Hermione asked.

"That's the thing. He's unconscious, and I've tried everything I know to wake him up, but nothing worked. Even my friends tried too, but nothing helped. So I'm here," Ginny completed her story.

"Okay, so you don't know who he is?" Hermione asked as she stood up to go and see who the unlucky guy was.

"I've never seen him before," Ginny replied.

"The jinxing was really accidental?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow as they walked side by side.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I'm being honest here," Ginny replied.

When they reached Ginny's compartment, Hermione saw an unconscious boy, about their age, lying on the seats. Ginny's classmates—Colin, Rosy, and Emily—were sitting opposite, but Hoover was peering at the unconscious boy, clearly contemplating what could be done. Hermione just shushed him aside and performed a diagnostic spell first. It revealed that he was concussed, but his unconscious state was caused by a curse.

"Ginny, do you remember what curse you used?" Hermione asked, turning to look at Ginny, who first shrugged and then said, "I just waved my wand at him and told him to sod off, and somehow I jinxed him. As I said, it was accidental. I meant nothing except for him to just go away."

"Did he say anything to you—like why he was following you?" Hermione asked.

"Not really. I mean, I did ask him, but he just replied with a 'Shush' every time and said he was concentrating, while scribbling in his little notebook," Ginny replied.

"Really?" Hermione asked, confused.

"That was what irked me about him," Ginny sighed. "Now he's in this state."

"Where's the notebook?" Hermione asked. Ginny just shrugged, but Colin handed it over.

"You didn't read anything?" Hermione asked Ginny as she opened it.

"I didn't," Ginny replied. "I was far too worried that I'd killed him."

Hermione nodded as she read the guy's scribbles. They looked nonsensical to her.

"He's written nonsense here," Hermione said aloud finally. "'It's in its initial stage, might grow to be attractive, and what it is about petite in size—'"

"That pervert!" Rosy shrieked. Emily nodded along. Ginny just looked at Hermione and asked, "Am I petite? What's the deal with 'it'?"

"I don't think you're purple, though," Hermione said. "He's written, 'It's purple.'"

"Purple—"

But before Ginny could finish her sentence, someone barged into the compartment, snatching the notebook from Hermione. He looked at it, then at the unconscious boy.

It was Ron. Hermione was surprised to bump into him twice in the last few hours. They had hardly interacted last year—she had seen him around Hogwarts often enough, but never within five meters of her. And now, here he was, right beside her, just inches away.

Ginny broke the silence. "What are you doing here?"

Ron just placed a finger on his lips to silence her. Ginny looked like she was about to shout, but before she could, Ron turned to Hermione and asked, "Did you use the diagnostic spell?" Hermione just nodded.

"So what were the results?"

"Concussed, but unconscious because of a curse, not external or physical trauma."

"Okay," Ron said as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ginny. Then he peered at the notebook.

Ginny sidestepped and withdrew her wand. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, fuming.

"Don't you want this guy to wake up?" Ron asked, tilting his head toward the boy.

"By cursing me?" Ginny asked angrily.

Ron sighed. "Maybe. Stay still now." Before anyone could argue, Ron waved his wand, and a sudden burst of purple light shot out.

Hermione saw Ginny close her eyes, but what shocked her more was the unconscious boy suddenly waking up. He withdrew his wand and aimed it at Ginny—but then exhaled in relief as he looked at something on the floor. There was nothing there. Ginny glanced at the boy, then at Ron, who just shrugged and put his wand away.

"You can see it too?" the boy asked Ron.

"No, I can't. So I think I managed to subdue it?" Ron replied. The boy just nodded.

"What are you two talking about?" Hermione asked, confused. The others looked equally bewildered.

"Oh, that was a spirit squirt," the boy replied. "I'm really sorry about it."

"What squirt was it?" Ginny asked, bewildered.

"How did you know what it was if you can't see it?" the boy asked Ron.

"Your notebook helped. You're Rolf Scamander, right? I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said, handing the notebook back.

"Yes, pleasure to meet you," Rolf replied.

"You know him?" Ginny asked.

"No."

"Then how did you know his name?" Ginny pressed, clearly impatient. Hermione wanted answers too but didn't want to talk to Ron—she just listened.

"It's in the notebook," Ron replied. Scamander flipped a page to show everyone. Hermione berated herself for not checking more carefully, but knowing his name wouldn't have helped her diagnose the problem anyway. She still didn't understand what exactly had happened. Had she ever heard of a spirit squirt? If she had, she didn't remember.

"Still, that doesn't explain what really happened," Emily said.

"Let me explain—it's all my fault," Rolf said. "When I boarded the train, I accidentally set my spirit squirt free. This is one of the rarest creatures. It's a curse, a spirit, and a beast. As a curse, it gets attracted to humans—it latched onto you," he pointed at Ginny, "and as I was about to get it off, I saw it tinged pinkish. I got curious, as I had never seen it in action. I thought a few hours of observation wouldn't hurt. So I was observing it for the last few hours. I apologise—I should've gotten rid of it right away."

"You could've told me that then?" Ginny asked, exasperated. "You freaked me out."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you because these creatures aren't perceptive when you're observing them. But they can perceive a threat the moment the host learns of them. If you had known, it would've run."

"They're not perceptive but can sense threat?" Hermione asked, puzzled. "That's absurd."

"What I mean is, they can sense what the host knows, but not anything on their own," Rolf explained.

"Then how come you got cursed?" Hermione asked. "If the squirt never sensed you as a threat, why?"

"Because it's what the host wanted," Rolf replied.

"Okay," Hermione muttered. To her, Rolf just seemed socially awkward. How could he not realise that following someone without explanation would make them want him gone?

"I'm really impressed by you, Ron. How did you know what to do?" Colin asked. Ginny just snorted. To be fair, Hermione was curious too. Fine, he had deduced everything from the notebook and the fact that Rolf was a Scamander. but how?

"I know about beasts and creatures—that's why I was able to knock out the creature," Ron replied. "The notebook helped, of course. Knowing this guy was cursed and that he was a Scamander meant he could see beasts invisible to us."

"Who's a Scamander?" Rosy asked, confused.

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them—the author, Newt Scamander," Hoover replied.

"Why were you here?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I needed to talk to Colin," Ron replied, after a pause.

"Me? Why?" Colin perked up.

"I need you to take some photos of something. Can you help me?" Ron asked.

"Of what?" Colin asked.

"I'll let you know later," Ron replied. Colin just nodded. Hermione thought it looked like Ron was making it all up. But who cared—what Ron did was his business.

"Thanks again," Rolf said. Hermione saw him awkwardly holding something invisible—probably his weird beast.

"Next time, please don't try to be curious," Ginny said as Rolf was about to leave.

"I really am sorry," Rolf apologised again. Ron followed behind him. Ginny sat down on the empty seat, Hermione beside her.

"Hermione, did all that really happen?" Ginny asked, bewildered.

"That was quite baffling, to say the least," Hermione replied.

At least the rest of their ride was quiet. Just before they reached Hogsmeade Station, Hermione went to host the prefect meeting, and then did her last round of patrol before alighting the train.

When she reached the carriages that brought them to Hogwarts, she saw it was one of the last ones, and it was filled with Luna, Neville, and—of all people—Ron, who was helping the Scamander kid up. Hermione was just about to walk away when Neville shouted, "All of them are full. Hermione, come here!"

Hermione awkwardly walked toward them and heard Luna saying, "This is full too, though."

Both Rolf and Ron looked at Hermione and said at the same time, "I can walk."

Hermione awkwardly replied, "I can walk too."

"So can I," Neville added.

"Are we walking then?" Luna asked. She looked as though she was about to get out of the carriage when Ron interrupted, "No one has to walk. I forgot something on the train. I'll just go get it before I go to Hogwarts. I mean, you guys can go before me."

"Really? I can come with you. You might like the company," Rolf offered.

"It's alright, I can go on my own," Ron said quickly.

But Rolf countered, "It's better for a staff member to accompany a student, don't you think?"

"You're a teacher?" Hermione asked, surprised. He looked the same age as them—maybe a year or two older—but still, a teacher? That might be true, though. He couldn't be a student; she had never seen him before. Then again, he could have been a transfer student, but from the way he spoke, it seemed he really was a teacher.

"Actually, an assistant teacher to Professor Hagrid for the next two years," Rolf replied. "Shall we go, Ron?"

"You don't really have to go—" Ron began, but before he could finish, they heard the sound of the steam engine.

"I don't think you can anymore," Neville said. "It seems the train already left."

"Yes, it seems so," Ron sighed.

"We are walking then. I would like to walk," Luna said brightly.

"We can all sit together," Hermione suggested. She didn't want everyone to start playing another round of I'll-walk games. She managed to sit between Luna and Neville, while Ron and Rolf sat opposite them.

"Mr. Scamander, where did you do your schooling?" Neville asked.

"You can call me Rolf," he replied. "American school of wizardry—it's called Ilvermorny."

"Okay," Neville said.

"How did you become an assistant teacher? You don't look like the sort of guy who settles down in one place," Ron asked.

"Yeah, right," Rolf replied with a smile. "My granddad wanted me to experience Hogwarts. He said it would make me fall in love with magic again."

"He's right," Hermione replied quietly.

When they all reached the Great Hall, they separated. Luna went to the Ravenclaw table. Hermione saw that, as always, Harry had saved a seat for her. She also noticed Ron and Neville sitting together a few places away. Harry, as usual, was surrounded by Dean and Seamus. She spotted Rolf talking to Hagrid, who brought him a chair so he could sit alongside him.

She noticed Ginny staring at Rolf and then looking at her, mouthing, He's a teacher. Hermione mouthed back, Assistant teacher. Ginny nodded, seeming to understand. It looked as though Harry had seen their exchange, because he asked, "Who's the assistant teacher?"

"The guy next to Hagrid," Hermione replied. Harry glanced over, nodded, and said, "So something happened."

She gave him a quick summary. Harry said, "You're not making this up?"

"Harry, I don't have either the time or the patience for nonsense," Hermione replied.

"Then it must be true. Weird, though," Harry said.

Before she could answer, Dumbledore stood up to greet the Great Hall. "Welcome, welcome, all of you, to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. First, let us begin our Sorting Ceremony and welcome our first years."

After the last child was sorted into Hufflepuff, the feast appeared. As always, it was enough to sate Hermione's hunger. When everyone had had their fill and the food disappeared, Dumbledore gave one last speech for the night:

As the year begins, today marks the start of a journey for our first years—a seven-year adventure. At the same time, this year also marks the final chapter for our seventh years, an end to their time at Hogwarts. So I wish you all a great last year, may you create memories to cherish your whole lives, and I wish you the very best for whatever path you choose after your time here."

Ron Weasley

He took a deep breath as he sloped downward, his broomstick plunging at a sharp angle. Just when it seemed about to crash into the ground, he pulled the handle upwards, straightening mid-air, his toes brushing the grass as he flew parallel to the earth. Dawn had broken, and the early morning sun washed over him. Behind him, a bear Patronus followed closely, bounding along his broomstick's tail.

"Ron Weasley, get here this instant!"

Ron tilted his broom handle upwards and shot higher and higher until he was far above the clouds—likely invisible to human eyes. He flew straight in the direction of home. It had been a full day since he had last been there, so, of course, when his mother hadn't found him in his bed that morning, she had decided to send him a message. It took him an hour to reach home. He could have Disapparated, but he preferred flying.

When he arrived, he headed straight for the kitchen and found his mother cooking bacon. The smell pulled him in at once. She turned around and said,

"Now, Merlin help me—where were you for a whole day?"

"Was just flying around, Mum," Ron replied, piling bacon onto his plate.

"For a day?" she asked, clearly unconvinced.

"Yes, Mum," he said, taking a bite of bacon.

"You didn't forget what day it is today, did you?" she asked.

"No, I didn't. I was just about to come home when I saw the bear," Ron replied.

"Alright then. Make sure you pack all your things. Don't forget anything. This is your NEWT year, so study accordingly." She placed another plate in front of him, this one with an omelette and mashed potatoes, then handed him a glass of orange juice.

"Yes, Mum," he said.

A few hours later, Ron stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters with his parents and sister. After saying their goodbyes, he boarded the train and found an empty compartment. Soon, Neville joined him, and a few minutes later, Luna sat down as well.

The past year had been busy for Ron—busier than he'd ever imagined. He never would have thought he'd spend so much time in the library, but he had. Most of his efforts were spent studying curses and counter-curses—for obvious reasons. After all, his father had told him Ginny was cursed to die if she married Harry Potter. Why would his father lie about something like that? Determined to find a solution rather than sit back and accept it, Ron threw himself into research.

Although he hadn't yet solved the problem, he had learned a great deal about curses and many other subjects, which pleased his mother—especially since his grades had improved. She had been upset when he told her he wouldn't continue as a prefect, but after fifth year, he realised he didn't enjoy it. Only Hermione had made it bearable, and after he'd burned that bridge, he saw no point in keeping the badge. Besides, he needed more time to study. Yes, Ron studied now.

Quidditch was another sacrifice, but he had his reasons. How could he possibly play on the same team as Harry Potter after everything? Ginny, too—but he hadn't known she would also quit. The situation had gotten messy after he told his dad about Ginny dating Harry, which led to their breakup. He hadn't felt he had much of a choice.

"Why are you reading your book upside down?" Neville's question pulled him out of his thoughts. Ron looked down and realised he had indeed been holding the book upside down the entire time.

"It must be a riddle. Let me see it," Luna said, holding out her hand. Ron passed her the book. She examined the cover.

"Oh—I've never heard of this book before."

"Yeah, I just took it for light reading," Ron replied with a nervous laugh. From his perspective, it was far from light reading, but circumstances change a man.

"It's an Arithmancy book, but I can't find Ruriand's Riddle in it. Where is it?" Luna asked, flipping through the pages with a puzzled expression.

"Ruriand's Riddle? What's that?" Neville asked.

"Very complex riddles that can only be solved when read upside down," Luna explained.

"Oh—alright," Neville said.

"There isn't one," Ron said quickly. "I must have been mistaken." He chuckled nervously and took the book back.

"That's Hermione, isn't it?" Luna suddenly said, looking toward the compartment door. Ron glanced through the glass and saw Hermione standing just outside, talking to someone. Then another figure appeared—Draco Malfoy. That git.

Ron stood at once, opened the compartment door sharply, and startled them both. Malfoy backed away. Served him right. Facing Malfoy, Ron said coldly, "Stop blocking the doorway."

"Sod off, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, turning back to Hermione.

Ignoring him, Ron looked at Hermione and said, "Will you step aside?" She moved against the corridor wall, startled. Ron walked past them, resisting the urge to punch Malfoy, and headed straight for the washroom to calm down.

A couple of hours later, back in his compartment, Ron caught sight of Ginny walking down the corridor. Moments later, Hermione joined her, and the two walked off together. Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to follow.

He saw them slip into a compartment. Standing just outside, he could hear the conversation: a boy had been cursed by his sister, apparently by accident. Ron snorted quietly. Then he heard something about a diary. The boy's behaviour sounded odd—odd enough to warrant a curse. When Hermione began reading what the boy had written, Ron's curiosity sharpened. He had read enough in the past year about creatures and beasts to recognise hints of something unusual.

He barged in.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny's voice rang out at once.

Ron pressed a finger to his lips, signalling her to be quiet. She looked ready to shout, but before she could, he turned to Hermione.

"Did you use the diagnostic spell?" he asked.

She nodded.

"And the results?"

"Concussed," Hermione said, "but unconscious due to a curse, not physical trauma."

Ron frowned, processing the information. Certain beasts were invisible to the human eye—but not to everyone. Then he noticed the scribbled name on the notebook's front page: Rolf Scamander. That explained it. Scamanders knew creatures. The rest of the scribbling described various beasts, and the notes suggested one had attached itself to Ginny—likely around her head.

"Alright," Ron said, pulling out his wand. He pointed it at Ginny, scanning the notebook again for clues. None. He'd have to take a chance. Shoulder, maybe. Please let luck be on my side.

Ginny stepped back and drew her wand. "What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

"Don't you want this guy to wake up?" Ron asked, tilting his head toward the boy.

"By cursing me?" Ginny shot back furiously.

Ron sighed. "Maybe. Stay still now." Before anyone could argue further, he cast a spell. A burst of purple light struck Ginny. She flinched, closing her eyes.

Hermione gasped—not because of Ginny, but because the unconscious boy suddenly sat up, eyes wide. He drew his wand, aiming at Ginny, then exhaled in relief as his gaze shifted to something on the floor. Ginny glanced between the boy and Ron, who merely shrugged and pocketed his wand.

After Ron explained his reasoning and how he had figured it out, the others seemed more or less satisfied. Rolf Scamander, however, remained eccentric. Accidentally releasing but then instead of catching it, observing a spirit squirt—one of the rarest and most elusive creatures—was borderline insane.

When Ron and Rolf finally left the compartment, Ron stopped him.

"Rolf, you seem like a nice guy," he said evenly.

"Uh—thanks," Rolf replied awkwardly.

"But don't bother my sister like that ever again," Ron warned, locking eyes with him.

"Okay," Rolf muttered quickly.

Satisfied, Ron led him back to his compartment.

Later, after some awkwardness with the carriages, everyone made it into the castle. Ron sat beside Neville in the Great Hall, laughing and enjoying the welcoming feast. If there was one thing Ron knew he'd miss about Hogwarts, it was definitely the food. As he looked around he saw, Hermione laughing at something, she always caught his eyes. Unknowingly Ron smiled brightly.

to be continued...

Chapter Text

Part 2

Chapter Two

Hermione Granger

Hermione was busy reading about the upcoming events happening at the school. As the Head Girl, she was required to help in the organization of these events, but she wasn't supposed to do it alone. To share the burden, the school had appointed a Head Boy as well—but he was nowhere to be seen, and the meeting was supposed to start in the next five minutes. Most of the prefects had already shown up. At the last minute, when everyone was there except the sixth-year Hufflepuff prefects and Draco Malfoy, she decided to start the meeting.

When the meeting ended and everyone had left, Hermione decided to put the notice up on the school notice board. She had also decided to assign Malfoy a job. She didn't mind taking decisions alone, holding meetings alone, or doing almost everything else alone—but even for her, doing everything by herself was difficult, especially when she had to prepare for exams.

That afternoon, when she entered the Potions classroom, she saw Malfoy striding to her side and saying,

"This Friday evening I'm holding Quidditch trials. I'm not available to write instructions for the upcoming Gobstones event."

"You play Quidditch? Isn't that a team game? I thought you weren't a team player," Hermione replied with a smirk as she strode to an empty desk at the front.

"Granger, I thought we had a deal—"

"The deal is I take decisions. Not that I do all of your duties," Hermione said through clenched teeth.

"But that's why I'm letting you take the decisions—so I don't have to do much," Malfoy replied.

"I can do a lot of the duties on my own, too, but I'm not going to take on everything alone. I need time as well," Hermione retorted.

"Granger—" but he was cut off as Professor Slughorn strode into the class, followed by a few other students. Malfoy just muttered, "We are not done talking," and moved to the back of the room.

The Potions class didn't have many students—only twelve across all four houses—so lessons were taught together. Who Hermione had been most surprised to see join the class last year was Ron. From what she recalled of their fifth year, when talking about NEWT classes with him, Ron had told her he was dreaming of the day he wouldn't have to study Potions anymore.

When Harry arrived, he joined her at her desk. The last one to show up that day was Ron.

"Now that you're all here," Professor Slughorn said, looking around at them. As the students nodded, he continued, "Good, good. Now, we are going to make teams of two. Whoever you partner up with today will be your partner for the rest of the year for specific classes. This is to ensure you work consistently with the same person, sharing and completing assignments together. It will help you immensely in your NEWTs. To the best pair, I will award fifty house points and extra marks on your final assessment."

"Can't we just partner with who we usually work with, sir?" Anthony Goldstein asked.

"That would be no fun," Professor Slughorn replied with a chuckle. He pulled out his wand. "We'll make a draw, of course."

Everyone groaned. This meant they could end up with anyone in the room—a tiring thought, to say the least. Hermione glanced to her left and saw Ron. She dreaded the idea of partnering with him.

"Professor, but that means my partner could be Potter—or Weasley?" Malfoy asked, looking disgusted by both possibilities. "That wouldn't be the least bit helpful to me."

"Mr. Malfoy, that's exactly why I'm awarding fifty points and better grades at the end of the year—because you may even have to work with someone you don't want to. It's a fun activity. You don't have to attend your daily classes with them—just a few specific potions lessons and assignments," Slughorn replied.

Then he waved his wand. A yellow slip of paper appeared in Hermione's hand. Harry was holding a blue one. She looked around—Anthony had orange, and so did Ernie Macmillan. The rest had red and green. Then she caught sight of Malfoy, staring dumbly at Harry. Both of them were clutching blue slips. Hermione didn't want to look, but she knew who was left. She turned toward Ron and saw him holding a yellow slip.

Now all the students sat with their partners. Ron had joined her at her desk, while Harry and Malfoy grudgingly sat side by side.

"See? This is the beauty of it," Professor Slughorn said happily. "I don't think any of you worked together last year—except perhaps Macmillan and Goldstein. Now, you will for the entire year: in the next six Potions classes and five assignments. In total, you'll work with your partner on eleven occasions. Your pair will be assessed across all eleven. The best one earns house points and better grades. I know it can be difficult to work with someone new, so today is a trial day—get to know each other. Make a Wiggenweld Potion. It's an elementary potion from your second-year curriculum. You shouldn't have any trouble. If you're short on supplies, you know where to find them. Your time starts now."

Hermione looked at Ron. She gave him a "just stay in your lane, I'll do the rest" sort of look. He folded his arms and shrugged. Good—distraction avoided. She got to work. It was a potion she had last brewed in her second year, but she still remembered the recipe. It wasn't complicated—if anything, one of the easier ones. In just forty-five minutes, she had prepared her potion.

When Slughorn came back to check the results, it looked as though everyone had managed to brew their potion—except Malfoy and Harry. Slughorn told the class their potions were good and warned Harry and Malfoy to do better next time.

As the class ended, Hermione heard Malfoy mutter, "Of all the people in the class, I had to land with Potter."

"Malfoy, I despise it more than you do," Harry shot back.

As Harry strode in Hermione's direction, she noticed Ron had already left with his things. Malfoy was heading toward her too, but before he could say anything, Harry said sharply, "I've had enough of you, Malfoy, for one day. Stop following me around."

"I'm not here for you. I need to talk to Granger. Give us some space?" Malfoy sneered.

"Just spit it out already, Malfoy," Harry retorted, his ire rising.

"It's Hogwarts business, Potter—between the Head Boy and Head Girl. You are not privy to it," Malfoy said smugly.

Harry was about to respond, but Hermione squeezed his hand and said softly, "Harry?" Without another word, he left them.

"Now, Granger—"

"No, Malfoy. If you want me to change the time, I'll understand. You have Quidditch trials ahead."

"See, Granger—you can be reasonable."

"Let me finish, Malfoy."

"What else?"

"You do it this evening on your own," Hermione replied.

"You must be out of your—"

"No. You either do it today or on Friday. Your choice. On Friday, I could have helped. But today, I can't. Next time, if you don't want anything to collide with your schedule, show up to the meeting." Hermione cut him off firmly.

Malfoy stared at her, dumbfounded. "Then I won't just nod along."

"You won't? Fine. Okay, have fun with it then." Hermione replied and walked away, leaving Malfoy in his despair as he tried to say something.

She should've put him in his place back on the train. But what irritated her most wasn't his attitude—it was his absence from the meeting. Who did he think he was?

Hermione's first week back at Hogwarts went by in a blink. Malfoy didn't put up any fight and quietly did the jobs given to him—though she later learned it was actually two of his friends who had done the work for him. Her classes, which included Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Charms, went well enough. This week also marked her first lessons of the term in Ancient Runes and Astronomy. With exams, Head Girl duties, and assignments, she already had plenty on her plate.

That evening, she was sitting in the common room, trying to complete her Charms assignment, when someone came and sat beside her. Looking up, she saw it was Ginny.

"You won't believe what happened today," Ginny said.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Do you remember that Rolf guy?" Ginny began. Hermione nodded. "Well, Luna told him she likes him."

"She might have meant it as a compliment," Hermione replied. "Luna can be peculiar about these things."

"Yeah, that would've been my first thought too—if she hadn't shouted, 'Can we date, Professor?' in front of the whole class."

"She did?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"She did. I think she was charmed by Rolf's affection for magical beasts," Ginny said. "You should've seen him helping Hagrid; he looked almost as enthusiastic as Hagrid himself."

"Oh. So what did Rolf say?" Hermione asked.

"He just told her he couldn't," Ginny replied.

"Is Luna alright? I mean, I wasn't expecting an assistant teacher to date a student, but it still might have hurt her," Hermione said.

"You know Luna—she just said 'alright' and carried on as if nothing happened, behaving exactly like her usual self."

"That's not surprising," Hermione replied. Luna had always been an anomaly to those around her.

Ginny stayed with her for the rest of the evening until they both went to their respective dorms.

Ron Weasley

Ron was trying to read the Ancient Runes book. He was having trouble understanding it. He kind of blamed himself for not choosing Ancient Runes and Arithmancy as his electives; instead, he had chosen Divination, which was not at all helpful in what he was trying to do.

Last year, when he had started looking for a solution to the curse, he had done so without any guidance. He dove first into the books he found about curses. He read about a lot of them—from ancient to modern curses—about how they could be incanted, how long they could last, how some were invented, how some were discovered, and how curses could differ depending on emotions, time, gender, places, reasons, and sometimes even on the one who was cursed. But he never found his answer there. For one, he didn't even know what type of curse Ginny had.

To find out, he had tried a lot of ways. Sometimes Ginny saw him doing weird things around her, which didn't earn him any brownie points, as she was already angry at him. His actions only made it worse. Nothing worked. All the conventional ways to identify the type of curse failed. Then he tried some not-so-conventional and easier methods, which didn't yield any results either. Sometimes he even doubted himself—was he performing the spells or complex rituals properly?

He thought of asking his father, but Ron believed it didn't look like his father really knew anything about this. From what he had seen of his father, he might just tell him to ignore it and stay away from it—that he would deal with it. But Ron did overhear his father saying one day that the curse was somewhat known in their family. That was one of the reasons Ron even tried digging into their family history. He had even tried to have a chat last Christmas with his Aunt Muriel, which didn't really go well.

"Aunt, I have heard that a lot of wizarding families are cursed in one way or another. Is our family too?" Ron asked, as he sat beside his aunt, who was busy drinking her tea. After hearing Ron's question, she focused on him and said, "Of course—otherwise do you think a sane person would spawn seven children?"

Ron wanted to throw the tea in her face, but he controlled himself that day. Then he had talked to Bill about curses and how one could break them. His brother was a curse-breaker for a reason. Bill's answer was simple: "Breaking curses can only happen once you have identified them. Once identified, any curse can be broken."

When Ron asked, "But isn't it tough to even detect curses?"

Bill replied, "Some are easily detected by spells, some are complex and require rituals and potions, but some are not even difficult to detect. Identifying them is the least of the problems there. At that point, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy come in handy, but that requires a lot of time, though."

That conversation was what plunged Ron into studying those two subjects, and if he was being honest with himself—it felt like it would take years before he made any real progress.

As he left the library and went to the Great Hall for dinner, he saw Rolf coming in his direction, asking, "When will Ginny be here?"

"Why do you ask?" Ron said.

"Nothing. I need to tell her something. I was going to talk to her after class today, but she left before I could have a word with her," Rolf replied. For some reason, Rolf looked worried.

"You can tell me. I'll pass it along," Ron offered.

Rolf hesitated for a moment, then said, "Yeah, maybe you'll understand it better and can help her understand it better too."

"You know my spirit squirt—the one that landed on your sister a week ago?" Rolf continued. "When I observed it, it changed from pinkish to purple, and even after being spooked, it didn't leave her. Any other day, a squirt would have left by then."

"Okay… so what of it?" Ron asked. He had read about them, but he couldn't really remember anything about them turning purple.

"That was obviously something I didn't understand. So I wrote to my grandad and told him my hypothesis," Rolf explained. "I got his reply later."

"What did he say?" Ron asked.

"That a squirt changes to purple when there's a curse, and it doesn't leave its host in that situation because it's attracted to the curse."

That was the detection—the curse had just been identified by a spirit squirt. Here Ron was, working himself to his grave to find a way to detect it.

"Yes, I think your sister is cursed," Rolf concluded. "You should get her checked."

"Thanks for telling me this, Rolf," Ron replied. "I'll look into it."

Rolf nodded and then walked away.

Hermione Granger

Hermione was writing furiously in her planner. The amount of changes she had been making to her schedule had troubled her since the year started, but what else could she do? With Head Girl duties mixed with her studies, she was on edge trying to get ahead of it all, but for the last two weeks she had just been failing at that. No matter how quickly she completed her assignments or how efficiently she carried out her duties as Head Girl, another problem always came along.

She looked up as Harry plopped himself into an armchair beside her. He looked completely drained.

"What happened?" she asked. She already had some idea—since the beginning of the year, Harry had been worried about one thing: building a team.

Last year, the team had failed miserably in almost every aspect of the game—and so had Harry. In two matches he had failed to catch the Golden Snitch, once against Slytherin and then against Ravenclaw. The rest of the players hadn't performed much better either, leaving Gryffindor at the bottom of the leaderboard. Slytherin, of course, had won the championship.

"Nothing, just had a conversation with McGonagall," Harry replied, rubbing his eyes.

"What did the professor say?" Hermione asked. Knowing McGonagall, it was bound to be about Quidditch—she liked winning the Cup, and last year had been a total failure, which had disappointed her.

"Same as always. She asked me to build a team this year that can win," Harry said. "But I told her it was kind of difficult this time around."

Hermione squeezed his hand. She understood her brother; last year had been tough on him.

"I mean, I've got good chasers, but not one of them can play offensively. They'll learn, but I need at least one who can play that way from the start. Then the beaters—my best buddies—they're good, but no one comes close to those twins. And the keeper… look, I'm not asking for another Oliver Wood, but the guy I had last year couldn't stop a single Quaffle. Mind you, he was one of the best during the trials—though only he and one other showed up."

"So what did McGonagall say?" Hermione asked.

"She told me to hold trials. Maybe some talented second-year will show up—that's what she said."

"But there's none. I mean, I saw last year how most of those kids were having trouble flying. There was only one who looked like he had potential. Maybe I'll get a chaser out of him, but still, he'll be a rookie," Harry replied. "I'm even dreading holding the trials."

"When are you planning to hold the tryouts, then?" Hermione asked.

"This Friday," Harry replied.

"On my birthday," Hermione said. Harry nodded.

"But that's not all. McGonagall scolded me for losing two good players last year," Harry continued. "Weasley and Ginny. But I didn't know something like that would happen."

"It's alright, Harry," Hermione said gently. "None of that was your fault."

"But McGonagall did say she'll talk to them, and if they both decide to play, I can keep my personal feelings aside when it comes to Quidditch. That's why I didn't understand why the hell they both dropped out," Harry said.

"Ginny would have felt uneasy around you, Harry," Hermione replied.

"Maybe we really shouldn't date our teammates then," Harry said, chuckling nervously.

Ron Weasley

Ron didn't know why McGonagall had asked him to meet her in her office. Had he done something punishment-worthy? As he entered, he greeted her with a nervous "Good evening." The professor offered him a seat, then a cup of tea, which he accepted hesitantly. She then asked if he wanted biscuits, and Ron nodded. She served him some.

"Mr. Weasley, I would like to know why you dropped out of the Quidditch team at the end of your fifth year," Professor McGonagall asked. Ron choked a little on his tea at the unexpected question—he hadn't been prepared for that.

"I needed time to study," Ron replied. Professor McGonagall nodded and then asked, "It had nothing to do with your personal feelings towards Mr. Potter?"

"No, ma'am," Ron replied.

"You gave up your prefect duties for the very same reason, right, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, ma'am," Ron answered.

McGonagall took off her glasses and said, "If it's truly to study in your spare time and better prepare yourself for upcoming exams, then I cannot ask you to reconsider. But if it's not, I would like to ask you to return to the Gryffindor team. The team is in trouble—there is no keeper. Last year was a fiasco, and I want the team this year to recover from that and give a performance it can remember for a long time."

Ron just stared at her dumbly before nodding.

"You can leave, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said. As Ron stood up to leave, he heard her add, "I would like to see you play, Mr. Weasley. I saw potential in you. The same goes for your sister—she has potential not just as a chaser but as a seeker as well."

Ron left the office. He knew McGonagall had always been a big supporter of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but did he really have time to play?

Soon enough, Friday came—the day of the Quidditch tryouts. In the common room he saw people wishing Hermione a happy birthday. It looked as it always did—every year Harry made it a morning affair by bringing her a cake so she could have her party right there. She was smiling brightly as people came up to wish her. Ron saw Harry and his friends talking and laughing together.

The rest of the day went well enough. Later, Ron walked to the Quidditch pitch, where the tryouts were set to take place. Around 10–12 students had shown up—not a large turnout. He still remembered his third year, when he had first decided to try out. Back then, a huge crowd had gathered, and Ron had chickened out. But today, barely anyone had come. Out of the twelve, most wanted to be chasers, but none of them could keep up with Harry's current chasers—except a second-year who looked aggressive on the pitch, a total chaser in the making.

There was only one who tried out for keeper, and he couldn't save a single goal. As the tryouts were about to end, Ron saw Harry grumbling to his teammates. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ginny walking over, broomstick in hand.

"Scared of playing?" Ginny asked, looking at him. Ron just stared dumbly at her. "If not, then why not play?"

He watched as Ginny went to Harry. Harry looked thrilled to let her try out. As Ginny scored goal after goal, Ron stood up and walked onto the pitch, stopping beside Harry, whose eyes were still fixed on Ginny—she hadn't missed once. As he saw Ginny fly, Professor McGonagall words rang in his head, and it was not like Ron didn't want to play. He wanted to so he decided to just play.

"I'd like to try out," Ron said. It took a moment, but Harry finally looked at him. "Why not?" he said.

Soon Ron was in the air, flying toward the goalpost on the left, ready to defend. Ginny came at him with the Quaffle. Her first throw went to his right; his fingertips barely grazed it as it went through the middle hoop.

The second time, it looked like she was going for a feint, which he anticipated. He blocked it squarely with his chest.

Out of Ginny's seven throws, Ron saved four. Against the other chasers, he saved Six—his performance was far better, only missing once or twice.

When he landed lightly on the grass, he heard Harry enthusiastically saying to Hermione, "Now I think I can win."

She chuckled at his enthusiasm.

to be continued...

Chapter Text

Part 2

Chapter 3

Hermione Granger

The day after the Quidditch tryouts, she entered the classroom and took a bench in the middle with Harry. Soon people started pouring in, including Malfoy, who drawled, "Do you think Weasleys can save your arse, Potter?"

"Scared?" Harry asked. Malfoy smirked. "Forgot last year's humiliation. Don't worry — I'll remind you in just a month." Harry just shook his head as Malfoy strolled down to the next bench. When Professor Slughorn entered, the class began.

At the end of the lesson Slughorn said, "Now your assignment, which you have to do with your assigned partner —" she heard Harry groan — "Vialdir Vial. It's an antidote to plant-based toxins. I need a minimum four-foot scroll on the recipe, uses, benefits, side effects, and history of it. The scroll shouldn't be more than seven feet. Now you are dismissed for the day."

As she saw Ron leaving the classroom she followed him and stopped him. "We will do it this evening."

"Why? We have a week—"

"Tonight. You can help. If you don't want to I can manage on my own — although if anything, help would be ideal."

"I don't slack — I'll be there. In the library, right?" Ron replied. Hermione nodded and left him.

At lunch she saw Harry sitting beside her; he grabbed his head. "Why didn't you stop me from opting for Potions last year?"

"You said you needed it for becoming an Auror," Hermione reminded him.

"It should be worth it. 'Cause I'm feeling suffocated by his pompous presence."

"I share my head-girl duties with him."

"I just want to kick his face," Harry muttered. Soon enough Dean and Seamus sat down as well. Dean asked, "How was Potions?"

"Splendid, right? I really missed Potions, alas," Seamus said in mock sorrow as he filled his plate with toast and bacon.

The rest of her classes weren't as tiring as Potions; in Transfiguration that day they mostly stuck to theory. Even her Ancient Runes weekly test went smoothly. In the evening, when Hermione found her usual corner in the library, she was surprised to see Ron already sitting there, a book titled Various Plant Toxins and Their Remedies open along with several books on antidotes.

Hermione took the seat opposite him and, instead of greeting him, picked up the books he had brought. She flipped through the pages, found the antidote, cross-checked it with another source, and wrote some bullet points before pulling out parchment to start the assignment. She noticed Ron hadn't said anything; he just sat there. Was he staring at her? She felt an itch at the back of her neck, as if he were looking, and wondered what to do. Tell him to look anywhere else? But if he wasn't actually looking, it would be embarrassing. So she forced herself to focus on writing.

When Hermione had written somewhere around seven feet and was about to roll the parchment further to write more, she heard Ron say, "Isn't that enough?"

"Huh?" Hermione looked up and saw Ron watching the scroll.

"Isn't it already seven feet?" Ron asked.

"Oh — that. Yes, it is." She glanced at the parchment and brushed hair from her eyes. "But there's so much left to write."

"I mean — it really looks like you've written more than enough," Ron replied. "We are only supposed to write seven feet."

"Yeah — okay," Hermione said. She remembered what Slughorn had told them: she couldn't just disobey the teacher's instruction. Still, she felt uneasy leaving the assignment there.

Before she could say more, Ron stood up, came to her side, picked up the parchment, and rolled it into a neat scroll. Hermione could only stare. He took the quill from her hand and put it back in its case.

"Now, why don't you grab dinner before you dive back into your studies?" Ron said, leaving her in that corner of the library. For some reason Hermione always lost her voice around Ron.

Ron Weasley

September was coming to an end. Ron was guarding the goalposts when he caught a Quaffle as it came flying toward him and threw it back. Potter called them all to make a circle in the middle; they flew there to practice a hurdle. After a brief discussion in which Potter decided to train the Chasers to dodge bludgers better, Ron flew back to his position and watched the Chasers and Beaters cross the pitch. Seamus swung his bat to send a bludger at a girl named Lizzy, who dodged it; Ron watched his sister dodge the one coming from Dean and remembered his discovery from two nights earlier.

He had read a book titled Curses of Curses, a modern take written about a decade ago, and found a ritual that might help identify the curse on Ginny. For it, he needed a strand of Ginny's hair.

Now he only needed a few strands of her hair. He asked for a washroom break and slipped to the changing rooms. He found Ginny's school robes, searched them, and luckily found a few strands, which he pocketed. He returned to practice.

Later that evening, after dinner, Ron found himself alone in an empty classroom. He drew the rune; it took him about fifteen minutes to copy it from the runes book. Following the instructions from Curses of Curses, he placed the strands on the rune and started chanting the spell three times. After the final chant he waited for something to happen, but nothing did. He read the instructions again, checked the runes, and tried the spell three more times, but still nothing.

He glanced at his watch — it was already ten at night — and he had no result. He was used to duds like this; he had performed rituals for a year now and it always felt like nothing worked. This ritual was supposed to identify most curses but it couldn't identify this one — maybe he had performed it incorrectly.

As Ron cleaned up the mess he had made, he heard the sound of footsteps and a gate opening, then closing. Voices followed. "Granger, are you going to open every door?" he heard.

"Yes," Hermione's voice answered. Then Malfoy: "We don't even have to do this — patrols are beneath me — I'm the head—"

"Even the head boy has to do the patrols. Don't shirk your duties," Hermione cut him off reprovingly. From what Ron could hear, they were right outside the classroom and the door was about to open. Ron instantly hid behind a desk.

"Granger — I know you like being a teacher's pet, so you do everything according to the rules, but I don't believe in licking teachers' arses," Malfoy sneered.

"Upholding the duties which come with a title doesn't equate to licking teachers' arses," Hermione replied acidly. "If anything, it means nodding along — which you're very good at." She opened the classroom door.

"Do it on your own, Granger. Why drag me?" Malfoy asked. "Don't tell me — you've got a crush on me, Granger." Ron heard a smirk in Draco's voice. Ron accidentally knocked the desk with his head, making a noise that startled both Malfoy and Hermione. Malfoy looked around, wand alight.

He saw Hermione peering into the room before turning to Malfoy and saying, "I despise you, Malfoy — if I'm honest. You disgust me with your holier-than-thou attitude. But I have to put up with you because you're, for all the reasons, head boy — and I won't let you shirk your duties."

Malfoy's face flushed red and then darkened. "You are just a little Mudblood, Granger," he spat.

Ron felt anger flare; he came out of his hiding spot and shouted, "Malfoy!" Then he ran towards Malfoy as Ron punched Malfoy square in the face. Malfoy landed on his back.

"WEASLEY!" Malfoy thundered. As Malfoy scrambled to his feet he brandished his wand, but Ron didn't care. He was frustrated — for a year he'd been trying to find a solution to a problem he barely understood. Tonight the ritual had failed again, and then this prat had the audacity to call Hermione a slur. Ron had enough.

Before anything could escalate further, he saw Malfoy's wand fly from his hand and land near Hermione, who was rubbing her head. "Weasley, you're in detention for being out after curfew and attacking the head boy," Hermione said.

"You stay out of this, GRANGER. Return my wand — I'll teach him a lesson myself," Malfoy said, furious. Ron didn't care much about Malfoy at that moment; he just looked at Hermione.

Hermione met Draco's eyes. "Malfoy, I'm controlling myself from hexing you for what you called me. 'Mudblood' doesn't mean anything to me, but I know what it implies, so you better shut up and run along to your dorms." She threw his wand back to him. Malfoy looked as if he wanted to fight, but seeing two against one, he left after snarling, "I'll make you pay for this, Weasley."

After Malfoy had gone, Hermione turned to Ron. "Professor McGonagall will let you know about your detention tomorrow," she said, then started walking toward their dorms. Ron followed silently. As they reached the Fat Lady's portrait, Hermione suddenly stopped; so did Ron. He was only a few steps away from her. She turned and asked, "What was that?"

"What was what?" Ron replied.

Hermione sighed. "You were hiding. So why did you come out and punch Malfoy?"

Ron looked at his feet. "He called you a slur."

"Weasley, you don't have to defend me — I can fight my own battles. I know as a Gryffindor you feel obliged to defend the honour of a woman, but don't do that again." Hermione went inside the common room before Ron could say anything.

to be continued..

Chapter Text

Part 2

Chapter 4

Hermione Granger

Soon enough Halloween arrived. Hermione was quite busy with her Head Girl duties – she needed to help with the decoration of the Great Hall, where she noticed Draco a reluctant participant, scowling her way. When their eyes met, she quickly looked away.

Since Ron had punched Draco, he had been sullen and had thrown quite a lot of insults her way. She had to put up with his moaning during their shared patrols, but she mostly ignored him. After the fight, she thought of going to McGonagall to get Ron into detention, but changed her mind – and she knew Draco wouldn't say anything about it either, because he had also called her a Mudblood that day.

She had simply moved on from that incident – just ignoring Ron too. At first, she couldn't quite put a finger on Ron's odd behaviour – it was rather contradictory.

At the end of their fifth year, Ron had shown that he was going to hold onto his pettiness against Harry and Ginny and holding onto that stupid grudge– and he had ended their friendship. She had been distraught then, hurt by his callous and cruel behaviour. But Hermione had distanced herself from all of that because, ultimately, it was Ron's choice. Yet now he was playing the hero – saving Hermione's virtue, or whatever it was supposed to be. He had clearly been hiding that day, not wanting to be caught – so why jump out from hiding just to punch Draco because he was insulting her? Hermione scoffed. What was he even doing on his own in an empty classroom that day?

She was pulled from her thoughts by Professor Flitwick, who was supervising the preparations and needed a hand with some charms.

Later that evening, when she was joined by Ginny at the Gryffindor table, she noticed Ron was nowhere to be seen. Even when the feast was in full swing, Ron hadn't arrived. Is he already in an empty classroom doing God knows what again? She thought.

After they had all eaten, Professor Dumbledore stood up to address the Great Hall.

"Now that we are full," he began, "I would like to announce an event which will take place later this year. It was added on the recommendation of the school committee – and quite frankly, I liked the proposal. It's going to be exclusively for our seventh years. We are going to hold a competition of sorts – followed by a party – just before the Easter break. It will be a farewell celebration for our seventh years as they soon venture out of the school to lead their own lives."

Hermione wasn't particularly interested in competitions, and she already planned not to participate. She had enough on her plate – NEWTs were coming, and with her duties as Head Girl, the competition would just add to the burden.

When November began, on the first Saturday, the Slytherin vs Gryffindor Quidditch match was about to take place. Hermione was walking to the stands when she was ambushed by Luna Lovegood.

"Hello, Hermione."

"Hello, Luna," Hermione replied.

"Who do you think is going to win?" Luna asked, looking unusually cheerful.

"Gryffindor, I hope so," Hermione sighed. Last year had been dreadful – Harry had been depressed for half the year because of Gryffindor's poor performance in the games, and he blamed himself.

She had kept telling him it wasn't his fault. Last year he had lost the first match against Slytherin because he lost the Snitch to Malfoy – but that was only because Dean had accidentally sent a Bludger Harry's way when Malfoy was already near the Snitch. And the next defeat came from Ravenclaw, whose chasers were so aggressive and Gryffindor's keeper so poor that even catching the Snitch couldn't make up for the gap. Against Hufflepuff they barely won. Gryffindor had ended up at the bottom of the table.

Now, she knew Harry was hoping to win this year. As she watched him fly out with his team onto the pitch, she could see the confidence in him.

Luna was far more enthusiastic for the match, shouting, "Gryffindors! Gryffindor!"

Hermione joined her, laughing, "Gryffindor! Gryffindor!"

She hadn't seen much of Ron in the last couple of weeks except during shared classes or meals in the Great Hall. But whenever she did, the memory of that night returned – what exactly had he been doing in that empty classroom? Hermione's curiosity kept nagging at her, especially since Ron's behaviour this year was so peculiar.

Madam Hooch was refereeing the match. Harry and Malfoy shook hands – even from here, Hermione could see Malfoy smirking. Both of them flew back to their positions as Madam Hooch let the Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch loose.

The Quaffle was caught by fifth-year Demelza. The Bludger met the bat of one of Malfoy's cronies and came flying toward Ginny (a chaser), but Dean – a Gryffindor beater – managed to send it back. The game was on.

Sometimes it was hard to keep track of the game – with three different balls flying around. The Bludgers attacked the chasers to distract them, and it was the beaters' job to protect their chasers from them and send the Bludgers back at the opposing team. A Bludger could be aimed at a seeker or keeper, but only in limited circumstances – twice per game for the seeker, or when the keeper was outside a certain radius of the hoops. The keeper's job was to guard the goalposts, the chasers had to score, and the seeker played the pivotal role – catching the Snitch could make or break the game. Still, in long-running matches, the margin of points from the chasers often determined the result.

Soon, a Slytherin chaser threw the Quaffle at Ron – and Ron missed it. A wave of sighs swept through the Gryffindor stands, while a cheer of "Slytherin!" erupted from the other side. 10–0, Slytherin's favour.

"You can do it, Ron!" Luna shouted. Everyone turned to look at her, then echoed her words of encouragement.

"Today's first goal goes to Mariette!" the commentator shouted. "The Slytherin chasers have clearly evolved from last year – the Gryffindor side seems promising, but can they beat the finest chasers Slytherin has to offer?"

A few minutes later, Ginny managed to even the score with a lightning-fast goal.

"Ginny, you're the best!" Luna shouted.

The score remained close. Mariette tried for another goal, throwing the Quaffle toward the hoops – this time out of Ron's reach – but he somehow managed to tip it with his fingertips. The Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers.

For the next fifteen minutes, the score stayed locked. Ron saved four more goals, but the Slytherin keeper was just as sharp. No one managed to score.

Hermione could see Harry desperately scanning for the Snitch. Then he suddenly dived – Malfoy right behind him. Harry outstretched his hand, the Gryffindors holding their breath. Ginny scored another goal, but no one noticed. The crowd's anticipation was shattered when a Bludger slammed into Harry's arm. They all heard the crack. The Snitch vanished from sight as Malfoy pulled back, but instead of landing, Harry pursued him – his broken arm tucked by his side, flying one-handed.

Is he mental? Hermione thought.

Ron Weasley

Ron hovered on his broomstick in front of the goalposts, he heard the sickening crack of Harry's arm, desite having a broken arm, he pursued Malfoy. It looked like Madam Hooch was about to stop the game, and soon all the players gathered in the middle of the pitch. He saw Harry flying over too, his face pale.

"First things first – Mr. Potter, you need to see to your injuries," Madam Hooch said firmly.

"I'm fine. I can play," Harry replied at once. Ron could tell Harry wasn't going anywhere until the match ended.

"Mr. Potter, it's better to at least show it to Madam Pomfrey. I'll call a twenty–minute break. If Madam Pomfrey clears you to play, I won't stop you."

Harry reluctantly nodded. Madam Hooch turned to Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, you go with him to the hospital wing."

"I can go on my own," Harry said stubbornly, but Madam Hooch cut him off with a look.

As they walked down the corridors, Ron muttered, "You can be quite dramatic, you know?"

Harry snorted. "Save the chit-chat for later, Weasley."

"Yes, later. I'll talk to you all night long," Ron replied dryly.

They entered the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey immediately bustled over. She cast a quick Episkey, but insisted it was better to let the arm rest for a few hours. Harry, however, kept arguing.

"I have a game to play!" he said.

Pomfrey pursed her lips. "If you can fly with one hand and catch the Snitch with that hand – then you are more than welcome to play."

"That's more than enough," Harry said at once. As they were about to leave, Pomfrey muttered under her breath, "That boy will come back with a broken back next time…"

When they returned to the pitch, Madam Hooch tried to stop Harry again, pointing to the cast on his arm. But Harry only said, "Madam Pomfrey gave me the go-ahead. I can play with one hand."

Ron thought, Sure, you can fly with one hand – but can you actually win the game like that? Still, one look at the Gryffindor stands made his stomach twist – their spirits had plummeted as soon as they saw Harry's cast.

When the game resumed, the chasers pushed hard. Demelza scored within three minutes, bringing Gryffindor up to 30–10. But Slytherin's sixth-year chaser, Cavelly, struck soon after. He faked Ron out: charging left, making Ron follow, only to pass the Quaffle right through the right hoop. 30–20.

The Snitch was nowhere to be found. An hour later, the score was tied 60–60. Both teams' chasers were strong. Quaffles kept flying Ron's way – he had already made fifteen saves, though the six he had missed stung more than the ones he caught. The Slytherin keeper, annoyingly, had seventeen saves by then.

When Cavelly tried another feint, Ron was ready this time. The Slytherin chaser lunged right then hurled left, expecting Ron to overcommit again. But Ron stuck to his ground, and with a desperate kick of his left foot, he deflected the Quaffle back to the centre of the pitch. The Gryffindor stands exploded in cheers. Ron even heard Luna's voice above all the others:

"Ron! Ron!"

But then his heart lurched. Malfoy had spotted the Snitch. He tore across the field in a zigzag, trying to throw Harry off. Harry, cast and all, was right on his tail. The Snitch seemed especially shifty that day, darting up and down.

Harry wasn't unnerved by Malfoy's pathetic attempts to block him. He just kept chasing. Seamus flew in behind them – good strategy, Ron realised. If the Slytherins tried to send a Bludger at Harry, Seamus could counter it.

Malfoy, growing desperate, reached toward Harry's broomstick, trying to knock him off course. But Dean sent a Bludger that Seamus smashed straight at Malfoy, forcing him to stumble on his broom. He lost his chance to interfere.

Now Harry was inches from the Snitch. They were both directly beneath Ron's vantage point.

Ron's breath caught. Harry let go of his broom with his only good arm – not holding on at all now. His broom could veer off, dive, or even buck him – anything could happen when you lost grip.

But Harry didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, fingers closing around the Snitch. The crowd roared.

Then, as Ron feared, Harry's broom pitched downward into a dangerous dive.

Madam Pomfrey might have been right about that broken back, Ron thought grimly – but at least they had won. The Gryffindors were cheering wildly, while Malfoy was left fuming, his face scarlet with rage.

And Ron, despite everything, felt a surge of pride. They'd done it. Gryffindor had won.

to be continued ...