Chapter Text
Harry came down from his dorm that morning without Ron in tow. She’d waited for them at the bottom of the stairs, her school bag hanging off one shoulder, expecting to hear that he must be sick but that was not the case. Evidently, he’d returned to his four-poster bed after midnight which explained his absence.
They took their seats opposite from each other at the Gryffindor table amidst the half empty Great Hall and sleepy students. As it was Saturday, this was to be expected, though she certainly preferred this peace to the weekdays where everyone was in a hurry before darting off to the first lesson of the day.
It was only the second week into this new term. Their classes hadn’t yet picked up rigorously, but as a sixth year, Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before that happened, so she was getting a headstart and heading off to the library.
“You’re welcome to join me,” she said after informing Harry of her pending mid-morning plans.
He chewed on his spoonful of eggs, shaking his head. “Can’t,” he said. “Got tryouts to do.”
“Shouldn’t Ron be awake, then?”
“He’s still got time,” Harry said. “We’re not starting until ten.”
Quidditch may not be her personal interest, but it was Harry’s, not to mention most of the school, so she asked, “Do you think you’ll put together a good team?” The original Gryffindor team, sans Harry and Katie Bell, had all graduated by now, leaving him as the captain.
“We’ll see,” he said. “Too bad McLaggen’s trying out.”
Her smile waned a little. Ever since the train ride over, Cormac McLaggen had taken to flirting with her at every opportunity. Each time she rebuffed him, growing increasingly more agitated when he could simply not comprehend she wasn’t interested. “You still have to give him a fair shot,” she said, wiping the side of her mouth.
“Might not have to. McGonagall won’t be there.”
“Harry,” she said reproachfully. Much to her frustration, he remained unabashed.
“Have you forgotten what he said to you last night?” Harry said, a touch of disbelief.
Of course she hadn’t. Right as she was going up to her own dormitory for bed, Cormac stopped her, his lecherous grin making her disgusted, even more so when he complimented her school skirt, adding that it was “far too bad,” it had to end at the knees.
She’d been absolutely appalled by his audacity, unable to come up with a retort as he winked, sauntering up the stairs.
“Clearly not,” she said shortly. “But that’s no reason to sabotage him.”
“It’s all the reason to sabotage him,” Harry said, his mind already made up.
“Sabotage who?” Ginny Weasley was finally awake, her hair pulled in a high ponytail and dressed appropriately for tryouts. She sat on the same side as Harry and began piling her plate with food.
“Cormac,” Harry answered.
“You should after what he said,” Ginny said firmly.
Hermione blinked. “How do you even know about that?” There’d hardly been anyone around at that time of night. Just a few lingering younger years that hadn’t even been paying attention to the two of them.
“Cormac’s been bragging,” Ginny said, displeased.
That was just what she needed.
“He said he’s guaranteed a date soon.”
“He most certainly is not ,” Hermione said indignantly. Who was he to think he could speak about her like that?
“See, Harry’s got the right idea,” Ginny said, then winked conspiratorially. “Just a quick confundo and we won’t have to worry.”
Hermione let out a noise of exasperation. “You’re both impossible.”
“You didn’t say no ,” Ginny said. A grin had stretched over her face, one of mischief that she’d seen on Fred and George.
“What? No ,” she protested. “Harry can’t do that. What if someone notices? He’ll get kicked off.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Ginny said with a shrug. She was far less concerned with getting caught. “Anyway, where’s Ron? Shouldn’t he be down here before all the bacon’s gone?”
“Still sleeping,” Harry said. “He got in late.”
Ginny had been in the midst of biting off the tip of a sausage when she heard this, pulling it away from her mouth in surprise. “They’re still together?”
“You’re surprised?” Hermione said.
“Well, you didn’t really expect them to last over the summer, did you?” Ginny arched her brow.
Hermione pushed around the food on her own plate, the sticky syrup mixing with her porridge. Starting in June, Ronald began seeing Lavender Brown out of the blue. She was informed by a letter from Harry, who thought to warn her by letter prior to Ron’s so she wouldn’t be caught off guard by the whole thing.
“Regardless, I’m happy for Ron,” she said, the words feeling like ash on her tongue. “He seems happy with Lavender.”
“Probably a little too happy,” Harry grumbled. “He’s not spoken of anything but her.”
“He’s infatuated, give it a few more weeks. He’ll settle down.” Hermione wasn’t sure she believed her own words. Him and Lavender were as nauseating as ever, seemingly flaunting it at every turn and showed no signs of subsiding anytime soon.
“I doubt it,” Ginny said. “He’s been gushing too much about Lav Lav to give it up so easily.”
The topic soon changed to other, much more pleasant things. For that short while, Hermione forgot all about Ron and his so-called relationship. All was well until Ron came yawning into the hall. His hair was mussed in that way that she liked, her stomach flip-flopping at the sight of him.
“Ready for tryouts?” Came his greeting. Hermione hoped he’d come on her side to make it equal, but alas he stayed across from her, right next to his sister.
“Are you ready?” Ginny countered.
Ron was, in fact, not quite as ready as he probably wanted to be. She could see beneath his seemingly calm exterior was a bundle of nerves that could have combusted at any moment. He was not going to let his sister know that, though. “Course,” he said. “Hermione-” The use of her name had her snapping her head up, startled. “Are you watching the tryouts?”
Oh, it shouldn’t have, but his question made her heart stutter. It was silly to overthink it, to make it more than what it was. For years now, Ron’s tried coaxing her into an interest in quidditch. This time would be no different. And yet, the meaning behind it felt so much more.
“She’s going to the library,” Harry answered for her. Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
“Come on, now. You’ve got to come watch me make keeper.”
A flush dusted her cheeks. She cursed herself for acting this way. Honestly, Ron’s given her that same closed-mouth smile loads of times. “Well,” she said lamely, as Ginny’s brows rose, “I suppose I could stop by for a bit.”
“Brilliant,” Ron said, pleased. “Lav will be there too. You can sit together.”
It took plenty of strength for her expression to remain neutral and not fade away. “She will?” She met Ginny’s eyes for a brief moment. The younger girl wore a small smirk that she hid by taking a drink of pumpkin juice from her goblet.
Ron was oblivious to this. A little embarrassed, he ducked his head. “She said she's coming as my good luck charm.”
At this, Ginny snorted. A few splatters of pumpkin juice hit the table. Even Harry seemed to have an opinion on this, given his expression, but did not verbalize it.
“What?” Ron frowned. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Ginny was doing a horrible job of smothering her snickers. Her brother stared in confusion, a touch of irritation too.
Seeing this, and hoping to avoid another sibling row, Harry slid the plate of bacon over to him. “Eat up. You'll need your strength.”
For once, Ron ignored the bacon entirely. “No, tell me,” he insisted. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Ginny and Harry said simultaneously. That was even less convincing, Hermione thought.
Then, he suddenly understood, the figurative dots connecting. “It’s about Lavender, isn’t it?”
Hermione felt it necessary to intervene before any tempers could ignite. “Now, Ron-”
“What’s with her?” He demanded. “What’s she done to you?”
Hermione’s pleading eyes at Harry shot down anything he might have said. It wasn’t that he held anything against Lavender, it’s just he wasn’t so sure her and Ron were a great fit together. He would know-he’d bore witness to them on far too many occasions when she visited the Burrow during the summer holidays.
“Calm down, you prat,” Ginny was less concerned with trying to keep the peace. “No one hates Lav-Lav-” Ron’s ears pinkened. “She’s just a bit...” She paused, trying to search for a suitable word, and nothing that her brother would be like to hear.
“Much?” Hermione suggested delicately.
“Not the word I was looking for,” Ginny said smoothly, “but sure.”
“Bit of an understatement there,” Harry muttered under his breath. Hermione heard it, giving a reproachful look that he ignored. It wasn’t that she even disagreed, but Ron certainly wouldn’t take it well if he caught that.
Perhaps, though, she hadn’t helped with her own input. Ron wasn’t happy with how their morning was turning out. He hadn’t blown up yet, but it couldn’t be ruled out.
“What does that mean?” He said.
“What?”
“What you said-her being a bit much .”
“Hermione said that,” Ginny said matter of factly, causing the girl in question to suppress a wince. “I only agreed.”
“Right, but why?” Ron was intending to know at once. And he didn’t appreciate Ginny stalling.
It was Harry who chimed in to say, “Did you forget that week she spent at the Burrow?”
Hermione found it curious Ron’s face twisted into a sour expression. His face deepened in color as well. “She was cheering me on,” he mumbled.
“With her own little dance as well,” Ginny said snidely. Then, to Hermione, she said, “Be glad you didn’t have to witness it.”
“Oi,” Ron was starting to get angry. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”
Hermione supposed he had a point. Even if she didn’t particularly like Lavender. If herself and Ron were together, she’d never-
Her appetite subsequently vanished. The plate of food below her was no longer appetizing.
Pushing it off to the side, she tried to hide her discomfort so it wouldn’t show. It would do her no good to think like that. She and Ron weren’t a couple, and there was no chance of that happening so there was nothing tethering them together in that sense. It meant she had no right to be bothered, not in the way she was.
Harry noticed how she was acting, of course. He sent her a questioning look that she returned with a weak smile.
“Oh, shut up, Ron,” Ginny said dismissively.
Ron didn’t take this well, so Hermione said quickly, “Isn’t it time for you all to leave?”
It effectively stopped what could have happened next, only just.
“Not yet,” Ron said. “We still have time.”
“Oh, Won-Won!”
Their heads swiveled down along the table where Lavender was with Parvati. She waved , face lit up with a smile. Her hair was bouncy and curly today, donning Gryffindor colors- in support of the tryouts, she supposed.
“Do you want to come have breakfast with us?”
“Er, well,” Ron, to his credit, looked torn. He glanced at them, as if asking for permission.
“If you want to go, then go,” Harry said. He wasn’t bothered by it. Not like Hermione was.
“You’re sure?” Ron said.
Ginny not-so-lightly shoved him. “Go on, Won-Won .”
He scowled at her, but that soon slipped away as he met with his girlfriend, exchanging a chaste kiss in front of everybody. Hermione’s stomach churned and twisted around until she was positively nauseated.
“Of all the people you could fancy, it has to be my brother?”
Startled, Hermione found herself speechless in the wake of Ginny who looked unimpressed. “What?”
“Don’t pretend,” Ginny said brazenly, “I already know.”
And what is she to say to that ? “That’s ridiculous, Ginny,” she fumbled with her words. “I’m not- I don’t -”
“Bollocks,” Ginny cut her off. “It’s obvious you have feelings for him. Merlin knows why.”
That last part was muttered to herself.
Harry decidedly focused on his food, using his fork to chop his sausages into tiny pieces. He wanted little to do with this conversation, not that Hermione could really blame him. She wanted no part of it herself.
“I don’t-” Her eyes shifted to where Ron was with Lavender, who was holding up a spoonful of eggs for him to eat, “-have feelings for him.” She made sure to whisper so no one else heard. “That’s preposterous.”
“Call it what you want,” Ginny shrugged. “But you can’t deny it. I’ve seen how you look at them when they’re together.”
Hermione flushed darkly. She’d assumed no one else had noticed.
“Harry’s noticed too, haven’t you?” She directed this question to him now. Harry reluctantly looked up from his meal.
“Somewhat, I suppose.”
He didn’t sound too happy about it. That much she noted. But Ginny didn’t take notice of it at all, or she simply chose not to acknowledge it.
“For what it’s worth,” the other girl went on, “I think you two would get on better than them,” she jerked her fork in their direction.
“That’s a horrible thing to say,” Hermione said, even though she felt similarly.
“I’m not wrong,” Ginny said shamelessly. “What’ve they got in common, anyway? You and Ron have loads more.”
“It’s not a competition,” she said reasonably.
“Right, but if it was, you’d be winning.”
Hermione bit back a sigh and tried not to look out of her peripheral vision for the rest of breakfast.
*
Not much later, Hermione made her way up to the stands where she usually sat during quidditch games. Her school bag was with her, as she still intended to make it to the library afterwards. Really, she hadn’t even wanted to come here at all but something in her pointed out that Ron might be disappointed if she didn’t.
It sounded terribly foolish now that she thought of it.
A gust of wind swept through, blowing her hair momentarily off her shoulders. It would be difficult, but she’d try to get her Potions essay done while she was out here. No use wasting any time if she could help it.
Especially considering who else was here with her.
Just as he’d said, Lavender was up here as well, just off to Hermione’s left. A loud, screechy, “Go Ron!” was heard through the air as he was stepping onto the field. Down below, she could see Ron giving Lavender an embarrassed yet pleased little grin while Ginny, if she was seeing this correctly, made no attempt to hide her eye roll.
Hermione had to quite literally bite down on her tongue. If Lavender insisted on acting so exuberantly, then she would have to move to one of the other stands if she wanted to get through the rest of tryouts without losing her wits. Her lips pursed, eyeing her dormmate just a little longer than necessary.
A part of her was well aware that it was unfair to feel this way towards her . Though a much larger part of her simply didn’t care, choosing to ignore all those moments she could have admitted the truth that was in front of them the whole time. Back in fourth year when the Yule Ball was swiftly approaching and everyone was on the hunt for a date, she’d never spoken a word to anyone but she’d hoped Ron was going to ask her.
Even if it was only as friends, even if it was so they had someone and didn’t have to go alone.
It had felt pathetic back than as it did now.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” Lavender said, bringing Hermione back to the present.
“What?” The wind gently swept against her face, cheers from down on the pitch reaching her ears. Turning to face Lavender, Hermione could only blink.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Yes, well,” she cleared her throat. “Ron wanted me here.”
There was no immediate change in Lavender’s face as she’d expected. Just a soft, “ Hmm ,” with her gaze still on the players as they now lifted into the air one by one. It unnerved her a bit, to be honest. Maybe that was because despite sharing a room for five years, they’d never really had much of a conversation or interaction, especially given that she was usually stuck to Parvati’s side.
“I didn’t think I’d see you here either,” Hermione said, speaking back up. “The tryouts aren’t that interesting.”
Lavender tossed some hair over her shoulder. She sniffed. “For your information, you’re not the only one who came out here to support Ron.”
The rational part of Hermione knew she’d earned that bit of frostiness, but it didn’t mean it hadn’t made her feel miffed anyway. “I came because he asked me to.”
“He didn’t have to ask me ,” Lavender said without looking at her. “As his girlfriend, I was already going to come.”
The word girlfriend burned deep within Hermione, bringing forth memories of the times she’d caught them kissing in the corridors, holding hands as they walked to classes and even the first time she’d seen them in person on the platform.
Her heart ached at the reminder, wishing he’d look at her the way he’d looked-and still looked- at Lavender.
After that, they didn’t speak anymore. It was for the better; she already had an inkling Lavender was going to relay this exchange to Ron once he was finished and that was not a conversation she wanted to have with him.
Pushing that out of her mind for now, Hermione put all her attention on what was going on in front of her, doing her best to ignore Lavender’s obnoxious cheering and clapping during Ron’s turn.
While she wasn’t completely knowledgeable on quidditch or any sport, really, she could agree that many of those who tried out were quite good. Harry was going to have a hard time choosing who to accept and who to turn away.
When it came time for Cormac’s try, Hermione was already packing up her things. There was no doubt Ron had made the team, Ginny too, so there wasn’t a need to stay here any longer. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been quick enough to avoid the nauseating wink Cormac sent her once they were at eye-level. Hermione tossed him a dirty look, her hand itching to take out her wand.
She didn’t, though. Not when Lavender was still here and could probably put the pieces together if he suddenly acted funny.
*
The sixth year boys dormitory was empty except for the three of them- herself, Ginny and Harry. On any other day, Ron would have been here alongside them, but he was with Lavender somewhere in the castle. Ginny believed they’d gone to the Room of Requirement to be alone.
That thought made Hermione feel slightly ill.
She recounted the afternoon she’d unintentionally spent with Lavender, voice tinged with frustration as she paced the room while Ginny lay sprawled out on Harry’s bed with him sitting up in the corner.
By the end of it, she was breathing out heavily. Oh , how she wished could have given Lavender those same boils that Marietta Edgecombe was still suffering from. For how vain Lavender was, she would have been devastated to have her face permanently altered.
“Unbelievable,” Ginny said. “She’s taunting you. You can’t let her do that.”
“What am I supposed to do, exactly?” She retorted. There was nothing that could be done. “She’s right, she is his girlfriend.”
“Doesn’t mean we have to like it,” Ginny grumbled.
“It might not be for long,” Harry said, shrugging. “Who’s to say they’ll still be together at Christmas?”
Hermione’s pacing came to a stop. She knew Harry was trying to help, but it did absolutely no good. Ron and Lavender gave no indication that their relationship was anything less than splendid.
Ginny blew out a long breath as she propped herself up on her elbows. “I dunno why you never asked him out in the first place if this bothers you so much.”
There wasn’t an answer she could come up with that could properly explain why she never did. Perhaps she was scared of ruining the friendship she and Ron had, knowing if it didn’t work out there’d be unbearable tension and a driven wedge between them that couldn’t be fixed. There was also rejection- she didn’t think she could take the humiliation of finding out he didn’t feel the same way, the confession lingering that would forever affect every single interaction she had with him.
Or worse of them all, the possibility of Ron drifting away from her once he knew. Above all, him and Harry were the first real friends she’d ever had, she couldn’t lose either of them.
Just as she was prepared to give Ginny a watered-down reason, she was caught off guard by Harry’s response.
“It’s probably a good thing, isn’t it?” He said somewhat hesitantly, now on the receiving end of a look from both of them- disbelief from Ginny and hurt from Hermione.
“What do you mean?” Hermione’s heart twisted. Harry didn’t think they’d be good together? It shouldn’t matter what other people think, she’d learned not to care as much as she grew older, but for him to think they were better off as friends struck a chord in here.
“It’s just-” Harry was thinking this over, seemingly regretting that he’d brought it up at all, “you don’t really fancy him, do you?” Upon seeing her face fall, he quickly added, “I know you wanted him to ask you to the ball, but I thought that was just so you both had a date.”
Ginny groaned. “How can the Chosen One be so bloody oblivious?”
“ Oi -”
“She’s clearly fancied him for a while now!”
“....Have you really?” Harry was looking at Hermione now, a touch of disbelief in his voice.
She shifted her footing, uncomfortable. “Well-” Her shoulders deflated and she could no longer hold up this pretense. “Yes. I do.”
Harry said nothing, but he did stare while Ginny was visibly smug. “I told you so.”
“Yes, thank you, Ginny,” Hermione sighed. “But it’s doing me no good now, is it? Ron’s got Lavender and they’re perfectly happy.”
“Then you need to make them unhappy.”
Hermione’s face was wary in the wake of a devilish grin that came over Ginny. Regardless of what she felt for Ron, she would not stoop so low as to sabotage their relationship. “Absolutely not,” she said with finality. “I’m not going to do anything.”
“But you could,” Ginny argued. “You just have to make him jealous.”
What?
“What?” She exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not! You just have to date someone he knows to let him see what he’s missing out on!” Ginny jumped to her feet. “It’s the perfect plan, Hermione!”
“ No ,” Hermione stressed, even as the redhead rolled her eyes. “I’m not stringing some poor boy along.”
“You don’t have to actually date,” Ginny shrugged. “Just pretend.”
“That’s even worse.”
“No, it’s not. It’s perfect . Ron will get jealous when he sees you with someone else and no one gets hurt because it’s not actually real.”
Still, it didn’t seem right.
“How would that even work, anyway?” Harry interrupted Ginny’s excitement. “Ron’s obsessed with Lavender at the moment. I doubt he’ll even notice.”
“Trust me, it will. Once Ron sees all the attention she’s getting, he’ll finally see what was in front of him the whole bloody time.”
This didn’t lift any of Harry’s skepticism, nor Hermione’s for that matter.
“You’re mad,” Hermione shook her head. “I can’t do that, Ginny.”
“You can, actually. You just have to know who to ask.”
Flustered, Hermione spluttered. “I don’t know anyone to ask, nor would I do it in the first place!”
Ginny ignored her resistance, already thinking up possible candidates. “We’ll see it to be somebody close, someone in Gryffindor probably. That way you lot can be in his face in the Common Room.” Helplessly, Hermione looked to Harry but he just gave a half apologetic look in return. They both know that once Ginny had an idea, it was impossible to stop her. “What about Seamus? You two might hit it off.”
“I am not pretending to date Seamus.”
“Alright, keep your hair on,” Ginny pondered some more. When she started to eye Harry, he blanched. “There’s always his best mate.”
“What? No ,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t-”
“I don’t want to pretend to date you either,” Hermione said, much to his relief.
Huffing, Ginny said, “Well, you can’t date Dean. I’m not sharing him.”
“I wouldn’t want to,” Hermione muttered.
A sudden bright smile lit up Ginny’s face. “How about Neville?”
“Neville?” Hermione repeated after a moment of silence.
“Yeah! You could pretend to date him,” she said enthusiastically.
Hermione opened her mouth but nothing came out. She’d never looked at Neville in that sort of way. It never occurred to her before, even as the years passed and he was no longer that same round-faced, forgetful boy who’d lost his toad on the train in first year.
“I’m sure he’d say yes,” Ginny continued. “You just have to ask him.”
“But I can’t-” She protested weakly.
“You can ,” Ginny said encouragingly. “Just ask him. Neville’s a great bloke. Plus, he’s never had a girlfriend, I don’t think, so you’d be doing him a favor too. See, it’s perfect!”
Hermione didn't want to consider it. It was a silly plan. A completely stupid one. It couldn't possibly work. There was no way Ron was suddenly going to look at her differently if she showed up tomorrow with Neville at her side.
But something within her wanted to.
A tiny sliver of hope that thought maybe he would. Maybe he would see that Lavender wasn’t right for him at all. She didn’t want to believe it would work, didn’t want to get her hopes up, but Ginny seemed to think so and Ron was her brother...
“You really think it would work?” She said through a whisper.
Harry stared in surprise. “You’re going through with it?”
A flush filled her cheeks. “It might not hurt to try.”
“Really? You and Ron?” He questioned in confusion.
“What’s wrong with that?” Ginny said.
For a moment, Harry kept quiet. Then, carefully, he said, “You think that’s who you’ll be happy with?”
“You don’t?” Hermione frowned.
“Not really,” he said honestly.
Some of her confidence faltered. That’s what he really thought? She could tell he was holding something back, but just as she was going to call him out on it, Ginny chose that moment to intervene.
“Ignore him,” she said matter of factly. “You just go ask Neville and see what he says.”
She was quite pleased now that Hermione was considering her plan.
“I can’t just ask him out of nowhere!”
“How else are you going to do it?” Ginny said. “Just wait until he’s alone. He should be in the greenhouse right now. I think he’s helping out Professor Sprout.”
“I can’t go down there,” she protested.
“Why not?”
“Someone could be listening in!”
Ginny was doubtful. “I don’t think anyone’s listening to Neville talk to himself about plants.”
“You know what I mean,” Hermione said irritatedly. “If anyone hears what I’ve said it’ll be over before it starts.”
“Then wait until he comes back,” Ginny shrugged. She plopped back down on the bed, making Harry bounce a little. “We’ll be leaving shortly.”
“ We will?” Harry side-eyed her.
“Of course. We’ve got to give them some privacy. You can come with me to see Dean.”
“And do what ?” Harry got a peculiar look on his face.
“Well, I won’t ask you to snog him if that’s what you’re worried about,” she grinned, “unless, of course, you’re curious?”
“Not in the slightest,” Harry deadpanned. Ginny fell back with laughter.
“ Merlin , your face! I wish I had Colin’s camera on me!”
“Real funny, Ginny.”
“I thought so!”
Hermione had yet to crack a smile. She was still thinking about the task at hand. If she was really going to do this, then she’d have to enlist him to help her. Having to do so-letting him know the reason why this was happening in the first place- sounded mortifying, even if it was just to Neville.
“Hermione, you okay?” Ginny had stopped laughing and was on her feet again.
“I’m fine,” she gave her friend a small smile. “Just thinking it over.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harry asked, deliberately ignoring the glare from Ginny.
Did she?
“I...I think so,” she took a deep breath.
*
Just as she’d promised, Ginny dragged Harry out of the portrait hole, brightly informing Dean of their plans for the evening. It was clear by the look on Dean’s face that he’d been expecting this night to go differently, but he didn’t complain, just merely smiled and went with it.
Hermione planted herself down in one of the big, cushy chairs. The Common Room wasn’t too terribly crowded, not when it was Saturday night and there were plenty of places within the castle to be in until curfew.
A thick book was open in her lap but she’d been re-reading the same paragraph for the past ten minutes. Her stomach was full of nerves as was her head, making it extraordinarily difficult to concentrate. Every so often, her gaze would flicker over to the portrait hole in case there was any indication it was about to open. This went on for nearly forty-five minutes, all the while, she wasn’t too sure what she was going to regret more- asking Neville to be a part of this or actually going through with the ruse.
Just as she was going to give up on staying down here, the door did swing open, revealing the person she simultaneously did and did not want to see right now.
“It’s about time you’ve remembered the password,” came the haughty voice of the Fat Lady.
Neville mumbled something in return that Hermione didn’t catch, but it hardly mattered. Her nerves practically exploded, mind overcome with a million and one thoughts all at once. Now was the perfect time to ask as he was walking on by to go up to the dormitory.
“Neville!” She called, jumping to her feet and snapping her book shut.
He turned around, looking surprised that she was approaching him. Hermione couldn’t help but feel guilty at this; it was true that despite meeting him first on the train, they’d not talked as much as she thought they would. “Hello, Hermione,” he smiled, and admittedly, it was a very nice smile. “Er, did you need something? Is this about Dumbledore’s Army?”
He whispered that last part, despite not necessarily needing to.
“No, no. Not about that,” she shook her head. “We don’t need to meet anymore.”
“Oh,” he was disappointed. “Alright.”
Hermione let out a soft breath to calm herself, subtly taking notice of the others that were around. No one was paying attention to them but she didn’t want to risk it. “I need to speak to you about something,” she said quietly. “Privately.”
Surprise flashed across his face again. “Oh, of course. Er, do you want to go to the room?”
She understood what he meant. The Room of Requirement.
“Actually,” she said, willing herself to push away mental images of Lavender and Ron snogging in front of a plate of food in a romantic setting that the room had conjured, “your dorm will work just fine.”
Of all the times she’d gone up there, the other boys were never there at the same time. Neville’s eyes widened a little, so she hastily added that if he wasn’t comfortable with that, they could arrange to go elsewhere. “No, that’s alright,” he sounded dazed just from the idea, as if having a girl in a boys' space was all that shocking. “I’ll just-” He turned on his heel, going up first. Hermione waited until it was clear and then followed.
Neville was by his own four-poster bed, awkward and uncertain. Hermione could attest to feeling the same as she shut the door.
“Right,” she said, displaying a false sense of confidence. “You see, I’m in need of a favor.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. What sort of favor?”
She felt it was necessary to pre-warn him. “You certainly don’t have to do it. I completely understand if you’d rather not get involved in this mess.”
“Er, okay. But what sort of mess are you talking about?”
Hermione’s heart picked up just now. She wasn’t sure how to even start this. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that Ron’s begun to date Lavender Brown.”
“Oh, yes. I have noticed. They, err, quite like snogging in public, don’t they?” Neville said, almost nervously as if he anticipated Hermione to get upset for the way he’d spoken about them.
“Yes,” she couldn’t help the sourness that filled her voice. “I’ve noticed that too.”
They had no qualms whatsoever about snogging anywhere . It was a shame that she’d seen quite enough of it.
“I try not to mind, you know? It’s their business. But I’m not quite sure what to do when they’re,” he gestured loosely, “together like that.”
I have a few ideas in mind , she thought. None of which were becoming for a sixth year Prefect.
It took her a second to realize that Neville was staring.
“Sorry,” she said. “Did you say something?”
“It’s just-I didn’t think you came here to talk about Ron and Lavender,” he said carefully.
“No,” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t. It’s-it’s sort of complicated.”
“Because you fancy him, yeah?”
She was caught completely off guard by his eerily accurate perception. “What did you say?”
“Err, sorry. Just ignore that.”
“No,” she said a bit too loudly at first. Hermione inhaled, then let it out. “No. It’s fine. I just didn’t expect you to know.”
“I’ve-” Neville hesitated, “-seen the way you stare at them.”
“You’ve-you’ve noticed that?”
He scratched behind his ear, embarrassed. “I notice a lot of things. Most people don’t know.”
“Right,” she repeated, voice fainter now. Her gaze shifted away from him. “It’s true I do have...feelings for Ronald. Ginny knows this as well and is under the impression I should pretend to date someone he knows to attract his attention.”
Her face was quite hot now. She watched Neville’s expression change and go through several emotions all at once, fairly certain he was about to reject the idea. Not that she could blame him, it was completely batty!
“You’d want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”
“If you would,” she said with a small, shaky smile. “I know it sounds ridiculous.”
Neville’s eyes seemed to study her face, and for what felt like a very long time, he didn’t say anything.
“I’m not quite sure how this is supposed to work. How does Ginny think it’s going to help him notice you?”
“Ginny thinks it will make him jealous,” Hermione said.
“But why would you do it with me? I doubt I can make Ron jealous.”
“That’s not true,” she frowned at how quickly he turned to self deprecating. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Neville.”
“I suppose,” he was doubtful. “Why not go for Harry? Doesn’t that make more sense?”
“Harry is too much like a brother for us to be convincing.”
“And you think we could?” Neville asked.
“Of course,” she said immediately. “If that’s something you’d be alright with, that is.”
In the silence that followed, Hermione’s heart beat quickend. He was thinking it over, at least she assumed so. His face was unreadable for those agonizingly long seconds.
“If you think it would really work,” he said hesitantly, “then I guess I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” She probed. “I don’t want to pressure you.”
“You’re not,” he said. “I don’t mind pretending you’re my girlfriend. I, erm-” His cheeks flushed. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”
“Oh,” she didn’t know what to say. Ginny was correct, it seemed. While she herself had never considered him in a romantic sense, surely there were other girls in the castle that could have. “Well, I’m sure there’s someone here that’s interested.”
“Not really,” he wasn’t looking at her anymore. “I, erm, tried asking Hannah if she wanted to accompany me to Hogsmead but that didn’t go over well.”
“Hannah?” She repeated the name trying to put a face to it.
“Abbot. She’s going out with Ernie Macmillan.”
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. He shrugged.
“It’s alright. I didn’t expect her to accept anyway.” Regardless, there was still a bit of hurt Neville tried to pretend wasn’t there. It made Hermione want to say something but nothing seemed adequate. Truly, she felt sorry for him. “Don’t worry, Hermione, I’ll help,” he said, breaking through to her thoughts. “I know how much it hurts to watch the person you fancy with someone else.”
“It hurts to see Hannah with Ernie?” She said gently.
He nodded, gaze still elsewhere. “I don’t mind helping you get Ron if that’s what you really want. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
She was incredibly grateful towards him. “Thank you, Neville.”
He smiled bashfully.
“And you don’t have to worry. We’ll make it easy,” she said, some of her confidence- genuine this time around - returning. “Ron’s not been around much this term so we’ll just tell him we started talking on the train and it led from there.”
“So we’ve been dating for-” He paused.
“Close to a week,” she suggested. “A few days, we’ll say. Ron might not believe me if I tell him it’s been since summer.”
“Right, but won’t we have to...” Neville momentarily trailed off, his face heating up. “Kiss?”
The last word came out as a whisper. Hermione stiffened, as if this was the first time she’d thought about that- and it was.
“Yes,” she eventually found her voice. “But we won’t be anything like Ron and Lavender, of course.”
“Will you, er, want me to hold your hand?”
“Yes, that sounds alright,” she said. They’d have to initiate affectionate gestures, nothing over the top - Ron would never believe it if that were to happen - but just here and there.
She could see he was chewing on his inner cheek. “I’ve never held a girl’s hand before,” he admitted.
“Oh.” Without even thinking, she extended her arm so he could take her hand into his. For a second or two, Neville stared down at it as if he’d never seen another hand before in his life.
His eyes flicked to her, she smiled encouragingly back at him.
Neville’s hand was much larger than her own, perhaps not like Ron’s but close. It was warm and calloused and the first one to ever encase her own besides her father’s when she was quite younger.
“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Hermione said.
“No,” he murmured. “Not at all.”
She nodded, assured. “We’ll need to come up with a set of rules, of course.”
“Rules?” He still hadn’t let go of her hand, but Hermione didn’t even realize this yet.
“I can’t ask you to participate in this silly ruse all the time. We’ll have designated times for you to be with me and-”
“Hermione,” he interjected, and she shut up. “I’ve not had one, but even I know that’s not how a relationship is supposed to go.”
“Yes, but it’s fake,” she said, puzzled.
A little smile peeked out of him. Something that was amused and shy all at once. “We’ll need to make it believable, yeah? Just be as natural as you can. We’ll, er, figure it out as we go. We’re already friends, I think,” he paused, looking at her, “so this shouldn't be much different.”
“We are friends,” she said, ensuring that he understood. While not as close as she was with Ron and Harry, Hermione still considered him someone she could go to on occasion. “You seem to be quite sure about this.”
He shrugged modestly.
It really struck her, then, that she was actually going through with this and Neville was willing to put himself through this as well. All for a plan that would not benefit him, really. If he was lucky, maybe Hannah would take notice of him during this as well, but Hermione didn’t know her well enough to know for sure.
It also occurred to her that they’d not yet let go of each other’s hands.
“We’ll start tomorrow, then,” she said, lowering her arm back down to her side.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll walk with you to breakfast.”
She nodded. “You certainly don’t have to sit with us. I don’t want to take you away from your friends.” It filled her with some shame to realize that she didn’t even know who Neville sat with during meals.
“Oh, that’s alright,” he said. “I usually sit with Dean and Seamus but I don’t know if I’d call us friends.”
“Well, you’re welcome to sit with us then,” she offered.
“I could also carry your books to class,” he said.
“Oh, that’s not necessary, Neville, but thank you.”
“Are you sure? Gran said it’s the proper thing to do for girls.”
She wasn’t surprised to hear this. Augusta Longbottom seemed like the kind of old fashioned woman who’d teach her grandson to be a perfect gentleman around girls, but Hermione was far too independent for that sort of thing.
“I’m sure,” she said delicately. “But thank you.” She ought to leave before she was caught, soon there’d be an influx of students returning to their dormitories for the night. “I should be going now.”
“Oh, right.”
Hermione lingered in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder. She was going to say more but only ended up giving him one last smile before departing.