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Hermione was quite uneasy, Viktor was really not the partner she had expected.
She was glad he'd been gentleman enough to come with her to the ball but the feeling of queasiness hadn't left her mind ever since she put on her dress, the dress was very pretty as she remembers her mother's hand picked the dress she'd worn now. The hints of different shades of pink that compliments her skin color, the ruffles that flutter all the way down to her shoes, she'd love every bit of it. She smiled as she twirled around the common room, it would be a lie if she said she wasn't excited. It was her first ball anyway.
She drowned every thought that was laced with Ronald Weasley's name, this was her moment after all and not even a row with Ron could ruin her night (she hopes).
And there it was, the knock on her door! Viktor Krum, a man he was. He kissed her hand before taking her in his arms.
“Oh!” She yelped at the act, she wasn’t used to fancy. She was used to being playful and carefree but this was real, this was different, a sense of maturity.
Keep it together Hermione! She mentally screams. This was Viktor Krum for Merlin's sake! He was famous, and she was his date. How lucky she was to even be invited by him. She eyed him, rightfully so. He wore a ruby red long sleeve with a matching fur cape and black slacks.
He was eye candy.
They strolled down all the way to the entrance of the Great Hall, and every step they both took was another round of whispers and gossip around the students. She was looking for someone in particular though. Ronald Weasley, with Padma Patil. They were both laughing, probably at one of Ron’s immature and silly and unfunny and- did she mention immature? jokes. It made her feel weird though, missing out on what he's saying.
She must’ve been making a face for Viktor to ask, “You alright?” He was genuinely concerned, she hides any disappointment at herself for making the pair a cause for concern as she looks the other way.
“Yes, I’m okay. Just excited.” She conjured a faux smile.
“Alright then.” He says, unsurely.
The Yule Ball was straight out of a fantasy book, Christmas carols played, the choir was admirably great. The first four champions of the Triwizard Tournament would start with a dance.
With the trumpets, the champions along with their dates walked in. Everyone erupted in applause, Hermione smiled as she made eye contact with the crowd.
Yes, she thinks, I’m capable of having fun you know!
The Great Hall was beautiful, three large Christmas trees sat on the very end of the hall, icicles drooped down from the ceilings, even snow twinkled in the air. Hermione loved magic, she dwelled in it, but this was dreamy and she could never get used to it.
Hermione and Viktor danced elegantly, he hadn’t talked prior to his ‘alright’ earlier. But he shot her a smile here and there. She was thankful for it, quite frankly any other uneasiness earlier was starting to dissolve. She needs to calm down, the air is light, the night is young, and she bagged a very handsome man, she did.
She deserves this.
Everyone joined the dance at this point, even Hagrid joined! Harry looked at her for a sign of discomfort, when he had found none he sent her a knowing nod. She gave one back too.
And there he was, Ron, the man- boy she corrects herself, he certainly wasn't a man if he couldn't even ask a girl out to a ball! Anyhow, there he was the boy she'd been wanting to piss off ever since the night started. He stared through her soul, she stared right back.
Every move you make
And every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I'll be watching you
Her heart skipped a beat when he fixed his hair, so not handsome! She hates how every motion he creates waved back to her. Stupid boy, that one!
Oh, can't you see
You belong to me?
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take?
The song was now slow, Viktor certainly has no two left feet. He'd dance perfectly to the rhythm of the song. He pulled Hermione closer to his chest, she didn't break eye contact with Ron though, savoring his look that was deadly.
She departed from the warmth of Viktor's chest. "Eyes up here, 'Mione." Krum whispered. She smiled at him and broke off the eye contact with the redhead. The use of nickname made her yet again, queasy. It felt inappropriate when the maker of that nickname looked like he'd want to kill Viktor if he had the chance.
Anyhow she'd smile of success, but she would never admit that she'd like it when Ron was looking at her, especially with jealousy. And by then, the music got louder and the crowd got more rowdy.
Viktor went to get drinks and he left like how he started, with a kiss on Hermione's hand. She sat together with Harry and Ron. This night had felt magical, she twirled around one last time feeling like a real princess.
"Hot isn't it? Viktor's gone to get drinks, would you care to join us?"
"No, we wouldn't care to join you and Viktor." Ron said, Viktor's name sounding like an insult in his tone.
"He's a Durmstrag, you're fraternizing with the enemy!"
"The enemy?! Who was it wanting his autograph?"
"And this tournament was made to make friends!"
"Well I think he's got more than being friends in mind."
Hermione was flabbergasted, how dare he say that? And even if Viktor had wanted to be more than friends, it wasn't Ron's business. She knew the boy didn't care for her that much, but to say that without minding her feelings were utterly stupid!
"He's using you."
"How dare you! Besides, I can take care of myself"
“Doubt it. He’s way too old.”
"What is it to you huh, Ron?”
“Bloody hell, nothing! You two can ride off at sunset for all I care.”
“You know the solution then, next time there’s a ball, pack up the courage and ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort! You’ve spoiled everything, Ron!”
“That’s not the point.”
Unbeknownst to her Fred and George were at the corner, listening to every word Hermione and Ron threw at each other. "Our brother's a git, isn't he?" George tuts. Fred nods in agreement.
She was completely undone, her hair had turned messy, and whatever smile she had earlier disappeared faster than bubbles. She wasn't a strong, independent, reliable heroine Hermione right now. She was a teenage girl whose heart was completely shattered by a boy who couldn't care less of her feelings.
She'd been left at the staircases, crying her eyes out. She'd felt betrayed.
The next few days were quiet, she hadn't talked with Ron for 3 days now, she wouldn't say that it was completely peaceful. It was alright. She spends the mornings with the twins, in her free time at the library, and whenever she sees him she keeps her head down or pushes it in a book.
She'd talk to Harry once in a while, but never Ron.
As long as he doesn't apologize, they will continue to be strangers. A part of her likes the calm, the power when she doesn't talk to the redhead, the feeling she got from it.
And it ruined her the same way, she'd miss him badly in times of needing a friend. She's glad the twins are there though, they really help her.
Late at night, day 4 of ignoring Ronald Weasley, she went to the library to work on her Herbology essay, doing assigned works help her forget, calm down even. And this time was no exception. She'd come to the library in the hopes of forgetting Weasley.
Hours passed, she'd continue to check her work for the fifth time. Taking grammar, word count, and indentions in close analysis.
Then, there it was, a subtle voice calling her name. It was slurred though, like the one calling out was stung by a bee at their lips. "Hee-ermi-yoo-ni!" She dropped her pen at the desk and called back, "Who's there?"
A thud, then a beat of silence. She finally saw the person who kept calling her. It was Ron, who was now face first on the floor. Hermione, like it was muscle memory to help him, got on the floor and stared at his face, if anything was broken of course. Ron grabbed his nose, "Bloody hell." He muttered. She sighed, she was glad he was okay of course. He was still her friend, after all.
She went back to her chair, as he stood up again wobbly. "You're drunk, Weasley." She said knowingly, as she rolled her eyes.
"I'm s-ssorrry." He dragged his words, he was drunk, she knew that, but something in her heart told her that what he said was mixed with sincerity. She gulped the tears back, hard. You won't fall for this, Hermione. Please don't fall for it.
She went back to fixing her essay. She couldn't care now can she? It was already day 4! He has to show her he needs her forgiveness, that he wouldn't leave without it. She wants her to make him fight for it, or make him lose his ego and tell her that he was wrong.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, Hermione!" He grabbed her chair and made it face him, his face was so close. So close that if Hermione moved even a centimeter she'd be able to kiss him. Not that she'd fantasize about doing so.
His breath was hot and she could feel it at the tips of her lips, very well. It was reminiscent of firewhisky and something a little sweeter, maybe strawberries. She wanted to know, like her life depended on it. Maybe he ate candies, or kissed another girl that ate candies, chocolates, no? The possibilities were endless. His eyes, the last she saw it was baby blue, but now it was darker. His face was traced with freckles, she probably could find constellations in it.
He closed his eyes and dipped his head in defeat, Hermione's heartbeat was loud she swore Ron could hear it too. The boy sat down on the floor and leaned on a bookshelf, he looked like he was distressed, his uniform was wrinkled and his tie was nowhere to be seen, his head was in his hands rubbing them hard. As if he could come back to sobriety by rubbing his eyes.
"Please just listen, will you?" Ron's voice was merely a whisper, and if she hadn't known better she would confuse his tone with desperation. The word 'please' caught her attention, it had been the first she heard Ronald Weasley say that to her.
"Fine, make it quick then." She says smartly.
His eyes gleamed with happiness, it quickly changed with embarrassment. He turned baby pink, He's a cute drunk , she notes. Holding her end of the bargain, she sat on the floor facing him.
"I know I wasn't the best at Yule ball-"
"- you were the worst -" Hermione added.
"- I know -"
"- That's good -"
"Let me finish, Hermione."
Hermione hid her smirk, it wasn't easy for her recalling the ball, it should be hard for him too.
"I hated seeing you with him- Viktor, it got into my nerves and everything just bloody popped when he whispered into your ear! And then I heard that he called you 'mione' . How dare he use the nickname I got you?! Then I got so bitter, because you were happy. That being with another man doesn't aggravate you like it did me." The last part turned into more of a whisper, like a secret meant only for Hermione to hear.
"You were smiling ear to ear, and I felt like you've never done that with me. I hated it then I hated myself for not being able to make you smile like that. And I knew that wasn't a big enough reason to ruin your whole night. But seeing you together ruined my night, and I thought it was only fair to speak my mind."
"I mean, what does he have that I don't?"
Hermione was at a loss for words, it was too overwhelming that she couldn't do anything but cry. Her hand immediately wiped her tears away, she was embarrassed enough, and to cry in front of Ron was another problem. The heartbreak repeated itself over and over again in her mind.
"And now I've made you cry, " he says exhilarated, "C'mere, 'Mione."
He reached out grabbing Hermione by the waist, he sat her down on his lap sideways. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried on his shoulder.
She cried until her sobs turned into small cries and then into sniffles. He caressed her hair, untangling curls and pushing it out of her face. She stayed there, Ron let her. If she wanted forever, he'd give it to her no doubt. If she wished for impossibilities, he'd make it his life goal to make it happen.
He'd cause her much pain and he knew that, if only he could wash it all away, he would’ve.
Hermione felt a pang of sleepiness, she grabbed her things inaudibly and helped Ron stand. She didn’t speak the entirety of walking back to the common room. He’d help Ron walk here and there, but she didn’t care enough to look at him.
As they reached the room, she sat him down on the couch. “Sit there, I'll grab a potion that could help you tomorrow morning, for your hangover.” He laid down the couch waiting for her.
Ron grumbled an ‘okay’ and let her go. All he felt was guilt, guilt that he’d make her cry at the ball, then made her cry again. He didn’t mean it, his emotions just got the best of him; he couldn't control the fact that seeing Hermione with another man felt that she’d pick Viktor over him.
And that the idea scared him.
Hermione went back as promised with a potion in her hand. “Here, drink this, it’ll help.” He drank the bottle, he trusted Hermione enough to not ask what it was made of. His eyes started to get heavier and he swore he’d turn delirious.
Maybe he’d turn stupid too.
Hermione’s pretty , he admits in his head.
She was everything he wanted, dreamt of, and of course she was everything he couldn’t afford.
But he really wanted her, badly. And he had to show it, he needed to show it. He pulled her by her arms yet again she was close, he liked her close.
“You haven’t forgiven me, ‘Mione.” He sighed, “I’ve told you the truth now, please talk. I didn’t mean to, okay? I didn’t mean to make you cry, or hurt you. I didn’t hate you, I hated him. ”
“It’s okay, I get it now, Ron.” Hermione didn’t pull back, she stayed there. She liked being close too.
“Ron? No more Weasley?” He winced painstakingly, “No more Weasley.” She confirmed.
“Good, say ‘Mione, won’t you stay here?”
“And sleep with you on a couch that doesn’t fit two persons?”
“The circumstances are not that pretty isn’t it, but, yes?” He snorted, but his eyes remained closed.
“I’ll think about it.” She says dismissively.
Ron hummed, then fell asleep.
Hermione was a very weak girl. She came back, he looked peaceful. His face never looked as calm as it did now. His calmness calmed her too. She was glad he was alright. She caressed his cheek, wishing he’d never feel it.
“Oh you’re going to be the death of me.” She whispered
He remembers it vaguely, but he knows Hermione came back with a blanket. She used a spell to make the couch a little bigger then cozied next to Ron.
He was half asleep then, which he regrets because the feeling of having Hermione in his arms wasn’t something he could enjoy whilst being sleepy.
Once she was comfortable, Ron asked quietly with his eyelids half open, “Will you stop hanging out with the twins now we’re okay.”
“Maybe, maybe not. They’re a better companion than you, you know.”
“They aren’t.”
“They aren’t.” She admitted
“And that's only because they aren’t you.”