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Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire: The Unexpected Task, pg 400
"Hermione, Neville's right - you are a girl!"
"Oh well spotted," she said acidly.
"Well - You can come with one of us!"
"No, I can't," snapped Hermione.
"Oh come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has..."
"I can't come with you," said Hermione, now blushing, "Because I'm already going with someone."
"No, you're not," said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"
"Oh did I?" said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"
Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.
"Okay, okay, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"
"I've already told you!" Hermione said very angrily. "I'm going with someone else!"
And she stormed off toward the girls' dormitories again.
"She's lying," said Ron flatly, watching her go.
"She's not," said Ginny, quietly.
~~~~~ Earlier that day~~~~~
“Do you promise?” Ginny pled in a whisper for the upteenth time since they arrived at the library.
“YES,” Hermione answered, exhausted but also always somewhat amused that Ginny saw her as a threat. “I promise I do not want to go to the ball with Harry.”
“Okay…” Ginny finally seemed appeased. Still, she appraised Hermione shrewdly from her seat across the table. “But would you say yes to him if he asked?”
Hermione put her book down, knowing any attempts to read were growing futile. “I...I don’t know, Ginny.” She knew Ginny was eager to hear something to spark the embers of the torch she held for Harry, and though Hermione wished she could say something to that effect, she also didn’t want to lie…“Who Harry wants to take to the ball shouldn’t concern you.”
Ginny nodded glumly, and drummed her fingers on the tabletop.
Ginny’s friendship was something Hermione deeply valued. Making a girl friend was an unprecedented milestone for Hermione. But she understood that their friendship was still fresh and built on the foundational trust that Hermione was not a rival for Harry’s attention.
All that progress went down the drain momentarily, when Rita Skeeter released her embellished interview with Harry, and Ginny was back on the defensive when interacting with Hermione. Like Ron, it had taken until after the first task for Ginny to reconsider the details. Hermione was grateful to have Ginny back in her corner, but she also wished she was more effective at persuading Ginny not to spend her time fretting over her crush.
When they weren’t discussing Harry, Ginny was confident, outspoken and great fun to be around. Still, Hermione found it best to choose her words carefully. If she pushed too hard for Ginny to give up her quest for Harry’s affection, Hermione risked stirring up Ginny’s suspicion that Hermione had ulterior motives to go after him herself.
“Well, who do you want to go to the ball with?” Ginny probed.
‘Ron,’ Hermione’s hormonal mind immediately answered. She opened her book again, feigning disinterest.
“I don’t even know that I want to go to the ball at all,” she said matter-of-factly. Ginny narrowed her eyes. She must have sensed something amiss in Hermione’s response.
“Come on, Hermione, it’s a ball.” Ginny insisted. “There must be someone you wouldn’t mind dancing with!”
She curled her lips in to fight the temptation to confide in Ginny. There was a truly maddening irony in the fact that Ginny’s favorite topic of conversation with Hermione was her crush on Harry. Hermione needed to swear up and down that she harbored no feelings for him, all the while, the most immediate evidence for which were her feelings for Ron!
She had considered it a handful of times. Ginny had bared her soul to Hermione about how much she admired Harry, even after all this time; it only seemed natural that Hermione paid her the same respect. Perhaps the fact that Ginny had such a depth of experience with unrequited affection made her the perfect mentor to ask what to do next.
On the other hand, the object of Hermione’s affection was Ginny’s brother. Every time she came close to explaining the truth to Ginny, Hermione imagined her reaction; her face souring as she pretended to wretch in her mouth, “Ron?”
And Hermione, embarrassed to admit it, agreed at times with that assessment. Ron certainly wasn’t handsome, or dashing like the wizards on the covers of Ginny’s Witch Weekly magazines were. And he wasn’t famous or legendary like Harry was to Ginny. He was also ill-tempered with manners to match, and careless with his words. Plus, he had a cruel sense of humor…of course, that was mostly because he had to be so damn honest all the time. A lot of those times he flew off the handle, it was in response to someone insulting his honor or someone that he was close to. To that point, Ron was probably the most noble person Hermione had ever seen in her life. Every time a new danger came into their lives, Ron was ready to protect Harry and her from it, whatever the cost...And he did it with that stupid, brilliant smile on his face! And--
“Well?” Ginny pressed again, perhaps hoping to startle an answer out of her. Hermione blushed, as it had almost worked.
“I don’t expect anyone to ask me,” she stated with a sad pang of honesty.
“Well neither do I, but that’s not what I asked.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Just if someone was going to ask you, who would it be?”
“Well there really isn’t anyone!” Hermione insisted, her library-whisper wavering dangerously loud. She composed herself and considered testing the waters of her confession. “If I am supposed to go to the ball with anyone. I guess, I wouldn’t mind going with...Ron.”
“Ron?” Ginny’s eyebrow quirked up in mild surprise. Not the gagging disgust that Hermione imagined, but still a healthy dose of perplexed skepticism, “my brother, Ron?”
“What other Ron is there?”
“I dunno, I think there is a Ravenclaw second year with that na-” Ginny snickered. Hermione cut her short, swatting a hand across the table as she suppressed a giggle, as well. It wasn’t the gruesome, ill reaction Hermione had anticipated. “No, I mean.” Ginny hiccuped and regained composure, “Hermione, I don’t think you’re understanding the question.”
Hermione’s laughing smile faltered as Ginny continued.
“You don’t have to be so practical.” Ginny insisted.
Hermione bit her lip against blurting her knee-jerk response, that there was nothing practical about her feelings for Ron. She had thought the gnawing sense of loss she felt last year when they weren’t speaking was just a consequence of missing their friendship. Reconciling only opened a floodgate of emotion; Hermione couldn’t stop herself wanting more; more of his time, his attention. If she could, she would have them go back to being bickering friends, that would be easier, wouldn’t it? She wouldn’t have to decode his words and gestures. She wouldn’t have to be such a babbling mess when she didn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t linger hugging him, because he wouldn’t make her feel so safe and warm...
“I mean you’ve got your choice of dates, really...you don’t have to settle for a knob like my brother.”
Hermione felt the heat rush to her face; Ginny was just taking a mickey out on Ron, as was her right as his sister, but her comment made Hermione’s blood boil just a bit. She countered Ginny with a forced nonchalance, “It’s not about settling. And why shouldn’t I want to go with Ron? We’re friends; I think we would have a good time. Or would you rather have me daydream that some knight in shining armor will come and ask me to a dance?”
Ginny sat back in her chair, the sting of reality made her wince. Hermione realized what she had said in the heat of the moment and recoiled in penance.
“Ginny, I didn’t mean it that way.” Hermione apologized in earnest. Ginny nodded but still couldn’t bring herself to meet Hermione’s eye. “But you have to admit this ball has made everyone go a bit mad. Just look over there.”
Hermione turned a scowling glance to the table on the other end of the study hall. It was seated with nearly a dozen girls cackling amongst themselves, and the only thing they were studying was the Bulgarian seated at the remaining table in the room.
Viktor Krum and his entourage had been in the library at the same time every day that week and it was really starting to grate on Hermione’s last nerve. He didn’t even seem to appreciate the attention, either. It all led Hermione to wonder why he insisted on staying in plain sight for the girls to ogle over. Of course, he had every right to use the library, but she was starting to find it a bit rude to subject the rest of the students to his parade of admirers.
“Well I wouldn’t want you to want to go with Viktor Krum, anyways.” Ginny, coaxed back into the conversation, rolled her eyes. “He’s weird.”
Hermione giggled at Ginny’s flippant logic. “Oh, is he?” Ginny grinned with her hearing how silly she sounded. “Honestly, Ginny, you don’t want me to go with Harry, you don’t want me to go with Ron, you don’t want me to go with Viktor Krum.” Hermione counted the potential dates out on her fingers, “Who do you want me to go to the ball with?”
“Fine, go with whoever you want! Just send me pictures from the dance floor,” Ginny crossed her arms and sunk into her chair.
“Ginny, it’s a party, not Mount Fuji.” Hermione shook her head, knowing Ginny would never see it so simply. She ventured to lift her spirits again. “Don’t count yourself out so soon, Ginny. Plenty of boys in my year don’t have dates yet, and I think any one of them would be happy to escort you!”
“Maybe even Harry?” said Ginny, with a tiny smirk.
“Maybe.” Hermione nodded, giving in to the urge to please Ginny over her desire to be reasonable. “But just don’t hold out for him.” In one last ditch effort, she offered her advice, “You never know what you might miss if you do.”
“Fiiine.” Ginny sighed and looked down at her long neglected schoolwork on the table. For a moment, Hermione thought the conversation was at an end and she picked up her quill to revise her charms notes.
“So are you going to wait for Ron to ask you or are you going to ask him?” Ginny quizzed her. Hermione blushed and put her quill down.
“I don’t know…I thought about floating the idea to him at some point.”
'If he could stop whinging about the prospect of finding a date long enough for me to ask him, that is', Hermione added just to herself in distaste. Ron had been obsessing over the ball just as badly as everyone else. He was so good at strategy when it came to chess, but he was obtusely missing the glaring solution Hermione had come to the moment the Yule Ball had been announced—that they ought to go together.
Ron almost willfully ignoring her as an option was starting to sting. Then again, as Ginny said, was she being too practical? Expecting he wouldn’t want to take someone he fancied, too? She shouldn’t rob him of his chance to go with someone he liked...she just wasn’t expecting it to hurt so much to realize she wasn’t that someone…
“Why do you want to go to the ball with my brother again?” Ginny asked, picking up on the tension in her tone. “He’s been such a tit about figuring out who to take.” Ron’s anxiety over finding a date wasn’t really a matter of the heart either. It was more one of appearances. At least when she thought about it that way, Hermione was too busy feeling nauseated by Ron’s shallow comments to be upset about getting overlooked. Hermione weighed her answer again.
“Well, yes he is.” Hermione agreed. “But so is everyone else.” She nodded back over to the growing gaggle of groupies at the other table. In her glance across the room, she could have sworn she caught Viktor Krum looking up in her direction. “That doesn't change the fact that we are friends and we would have a fine time at the ball together.”
“Suit yourself, I suppose.” Ginny shrugged as she picked up a quill and finally began taking notes again. Pleased with herself, Hermione flipped to the next page of her own work and they continued their studies in peace.
The rumble of conversation from the table of girls reached the librarian’s threshold, as Madam Pince appeared at the table to banish the girls from the study hall. Serves them right, Hermione thought. Only the sound of their quills on parchment could be heard until a long shadow fell over the table and someone cleared their throat.
“Erm, Hi Her-Hermione. Hey, Ginny.”
“Hi Neville,” Hermione twisted in her chair to greet her classmate. Ginny returned a pleasant smile and a wave before looking back down at her work. He was shuffling from foot to foot and had a slightly queasy look about him. “Did you want to revise for potions? I heard Snape might have a quiz planned for Tuesday.”
“A quiz?” Neville paled further, but shook his head. “No, that's alright.” He said quickly, but frowned and doubled back. “Maybe later. I wanted to ask you something.”
“Oh,” Hermione furrowed her brow at his queer demenor. The last time she had seen him this shaken he was in front of the portrait hole in first year and standing between them and the Philosopher's stone. “Okay.”
“Well...Hermione. We’re friends. And—and I’ve always admired you. You are a patient potions partner and I enjoy your company; would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me? Please?”
“Oh…Neville.” Hermione blinked several times and turned back to her books to collect her thoughts. Ginny had stopped working and instead she leaned an arm on the table with her chin cupped in her hands as she watched with peaked intrigue. Hermione felt like a feral cat cornered by Ginny’s judgement and Neville waiting for an answer.
“We are friends, Neville,” She began diplomatically. “And I like helping you with potions! But—I—I already have a date to the ball!”
“Oh, You do?”
“You do?” Ginny parroted with indignance. Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, unable to conjure up a response.
“Well, yeah,” Crestfallen Neville looked down at his shoes, oblivious that Hermione was in crisis. “That figures.”
Hermione’s cheeks warmed in the light of Neville’s admiration. She felt all the more guilty for her dishonesty. “So Ginny...we’re friends. And I always admired yo-”
“NEVILLE FRANKLIN LONGBOTTOM,” Hermione thundered (as much as the library would permit anyways), “Are you using the same speech?”
“I’m sorry, Hermione.” Neville shrugged but stood his ground, “I worked really hard on that speech and I’m not leaving this library till I get a date to the ball with it.” He faltered slightly as he added, “I have to tell my nan I’m taking somebody.” Hermione rolled her eyes to the heavens, any credit she would have given Neville for having the guts to ask her was diminished with the unshocking revelation that he too was just as shallowly obsessed with securing a date.
“Neville,” She began in admonishment. “That’s-”
“I’ll go with you, Neville,” Ginny called out from across the table, cutting off Hermione’s lecture.
“You will!?” Neville and Hermione chorused, in surprise and confusion respectively.
“Yeah, I mean,” Ginny’s face was steadily blushing to match her hair. “You need a date, I want to go to the ball. I’m fairly confident my brothers won’t freak out and try to hex you for asking me.”
“I..erm...right,” Getting intimidated by the Weasley brothers was not a contingency Neville had anticipated. “Well, brilliant. Thanks, Ginny! I gotta go write my nan, I’ll see you both later in the Common Room!”
Neville practically skipped away.
“I can’t believe you did that!” Hermione hissed across the table intent on lecturing someone in the pitfalls of rewarding unbecoming behavior.
“Me!” Ginny shot back, “You’ve already got a date? Miss I-Don’t-Even-Want-To-Go-To-The-Ball!”
“I panicked!” Hermione cringed under Ginny’s scrutiny. “But I just told you, I’m planning on talking to Ron. I can’t just put all that aside just because Neville asked me.”
“It sounds like you really want to go to the ball with Ron.” Ginny stated, blunt and smug.
“No, I just don’t want to drop everything just because someone asked me.”
“Well you better hope no one else asks you,” Ginny warned with a wry grin, “I’m no longer at liberty to throw myself at the next boy that drums up the nerve.”
Hermione laughed along with Ginny at the notion that someone else would think to ask her. Neville was one thing, but, besides her academic standing, hardly anyone else in the school even knew her at all.
“Excuse me,” a baritone voice murmured behind her, it cut their laughter silent. Ginny’s jaw swung open as she beheld the new comer first.
Hermione needed to take a double take to confirm the young man that had been seated at the table on the far side of the room was now standing in front of her. Viktor Krum squared his shoulders and curtly nodded. “Good Afternoon.”
“Hello.” Hermione glanced about her, as if there could be anybody else he could be talking to.
“Hii,” Ginny smiled meekly and curled her fingers in a star-struck wave.
“I am Viktor Kum.”
“Yes,” Hermione said wearily, “We...know.” She began racking her brain for a reason he would come over to them. Did she have a book he wanted?
“I’m Ginny Weasley!” Ginny chimed in, and then she hinted through gritted teeth, “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself, Hermione?”
“Right!” Hermione jumped at the realization. “I am Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you...officially that is, Mr Krum.”
“Viktor is fine, Her-,” He paused and a blush filled his face, “Miss Granger. I apologize, my English is still not very good. I would not like to seem rude if I cannot say your name,” he explained.
“O-okay,” Hermione smiled weakly, still confused by his appearance. “It’s a lot of vowels,” she reasoned out loud, for no other purpose than to fill the empty air.
“Yes,” Viktor nodded again. As he continued speaking, his grasp of verb tense left much to be desired. “I am coming over to tell you that I have seen you here studying, many days.”
Hermione’s stomach dropped as if she had swallowed a leaden ball. Had he been in the library everyday to see her? Had he been watching her??
“I am thinking that I would like to know you better,” Viktor continued; his gruff demeanor wavering in his vulnerability. “Perhaps, the next time we are in the Library, I may sit at the same table as you.”
Lightheaded, and frantically still processing, Hermione hummed an affirmative. She could hear Ginny squeak in shock behind her.
“And then, perhaps, you might let me escort you to the Yule Ball.”
Another squeak escaped Ginny. Hermione sat frozen, unable to make sense of the situation.
“I...well...we--can I let you know?” Hermione cringed at her own mortal humiliation.
“Yes, of course. I look forward to be hearing from you. Have a nice evening.” And then he bowed. He bent at a stiff degree and shot back to his upright stance. He looked past Hermione to nod to Ginny, still agog, “Miss Weasley.”
He turned on his heel and marched away.
“Bye,” Ginny blurted out as he rounded the corner of a bookshelf and was out of sight. “What?” she began, having regained her composure, “the bloody hell was that?!”
“I don’t know.” Hermione was still stuck staring at the spot Neville, and then Viktor had stood, wary that if she didn’t watch it another suitor would take up residence. She shook her head to clear it of such a silly thought.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Ginny urged, “You basically just agreed to become an international Quidditch star’s girlfriend!”
“Ginny, were you even listening?” Hermione furrowed her brow. “He wants to study together.”
“Hermione,” Ginny remarked flatly. “Were you even listening? He wants to take you to the ball and you practically said, ‘yes’!”
“Ladies!” Madam Pince materialized at Hermione’s shoulder and her sharp stare bore into both of them. “The Common room is for gossip. The library is for silence!”
The girls mumbled hasty apologies and promised to pack up and leave. Once they bustled out of the library and into the halls of the castle Hermione picked up where they left off.
“I told him I would let him know, that is a maybe at best!” Hermione defended.
“Well that’s loads more hope than you gave Neville!” Ginny shot back in a hiss, as to not be overheard by the other students headed to dinner.
“You said yourself I can’t turn down every offer.”
“That was when I assumed you weren’t going to get asked to the ball again in the next two minutes! And not by Viktor Krum, no less!”
“What happened to not wanting me to want to go with him?”
“I don’t want you to go with him! He’s still weird, and what kind of message is that supposed to send that Viktor Krum has won over Harry Potter’s supposed girlfriend?”
“Ginny, everyone knows that was never true.” Hermione groaned. “And he hasn’t won me over, we barely spoke. You heard him. If anything he seems rather lonely, don’t you think.”
“Sure, but out of a whole school of people clambering to be his friend he picks you?” Ginny raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe it’s because I’m not clambering to be his friend that he wants to get to know me. Not everything has to be about the Triwizard Tournament. You sound like Ron.”
“Ron! What about Ron!?” Ginny cried.
“What about him?” Hermione heaved her bag over her shoulder and picked up her pace on the stairs down towards the Great Hall.
“Well, what are you going to tell him now that Krum is taking you to the ball?”
“For the last time, I haven’t agreed to go anywhere but the library with Viktor; so I don’t need to tell Ron anything,” Hermione huffed. Just before she could make it to the ground floor landing the stairs rumbled to life and shifted. Hermione clung to the bannister cursed the Hogwarts castle as Ginny caught up with her and hunkered down for the ride. She was forced to endure Ginny’s questions when all she really wanted to do was get to the Great Hall.
“Well, you were so set on giving Ron the opportunity to go to the ball with you.” Ginny shrugged as the stairs slid back into place one floor up from their intended target.
“And I’m still open to going with Ron,” Hermione said honestly. Hermione didn’t know Viktor, a meager few pleasantries exchanged did not guarantee an enjoyable evening. And as trivial as Ginny was being about the details, she had a point; people would talk. She had already made it into the papers being connected to one champion. Being the topic of conversation in the school’s prolific chain of gossip was not something Hermione would really be looking forward to. So, obviously if she wanted to maintain a quiet existence, Ron was a better option.
The fact that Ron hadn’t asked her yet was simply a matter of timing. Now that Viktor’s offer was hanging in the balance and Ginny’s interest had peaked, there was no time to lose. Hermione needed to know now or never if Ron was going to come to his senses and be her date. There had to be something real beneath these new emotions she was still sorting out for him. The secret smiles she only seemed to see. The way their hands grazed at the dinner table or when he leaned over her shoulder to read her notes and lingered cheek to cheek with her?
She needed to just ask him, now, no matter what…
They rounded the corner and Hermione stopped in her tracks as she heard Ron call out the words she wanted to hear, “Please go to the ball with me?”
...It just wasn’t to her. She stood stock still as she watched from the other end of the corridor as Ron practically melted under the gaze of the French Champion, Fleur Delacour. Suddenly, her book bag felt heavier on her shoulder.
Suddenly, her heart felt heavier in her chest.
She watched helplessly as the scene played out. Fleur and a handful of other students milling through the halls stopped and stared as Ron stuttered and stammered in the unanticipated train wreck of his statement. Fleur blinked in amusement, Hermione could see her pretty blue eyes shining even from her end of the hall.
Before Fleur could respond properly, Ron balked and hurried down the opposite hall, Hermione watched his frantic form recede into the crowd. The outburst was a mere blip to the rest of the witnesses; the other students began talking amongst themselves again. A storm cloud of hurt, irritation, and jealousy raged over Hermione’s thoughts. Ginny stood with her grimacing having seen the whole thing as well.
The fumes of her hope evaporated, Hermione knew what she had to do.
“Hey, Ginny?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s probably headed to the Common Room. Could you catch up with him and make sure he’s alright?”
“Yeah, what are you going to do.”
“I should send an owl to Viktor to set a time for the Library tomorrow.” Hermione turned to head for the Owlery.
“Hermione,” Ginny called out meekly before Hermione could get far, “are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Gin.” Hermione nodded over her shoulder. “Could you just keep all of this between you and me right now?”
“Of course.”
“Do you promise?”