Work Text:
Hermione’s words, though whispered, reverberated through the, common room, “If you want him, you can have him. But you have to win a wizard’s duel…against me.”
The room was thankfully empty. The only sound was the crackling fire.
Harry sat stunned, staring at the cleverest witch of their age, who hadn’t even turned to face him when she spoke. “What are you on about? Have you been sniffing your potions pot?”
“Ron,” she said turning. “Anything worth having, Harry, is worth fighting to get. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“That’s true. But…how…” he sputtered.
“April Fool’s, Harry,” she smirked. “He’s yours, anyway.”