A/N: I was browsing idly through the Harry Potter section on this site, and got randomly inspired to write a short one-shot. You could argue that this is AU, but I prefer to think of it as a deleted scene, as it doesn't change the plot of the HP storyline overall—just adds to it a little.
Harry kicked a pebble into the lake and scowled. He'd just come from yet another failed attempt to ask Cho to the Yule Ball, and his lack of nerve rankled him. It wasn't fair. They had to travel in packs, didn't they, like wolves waiting to prey on Harry's weakening manhood. Stupid girls. Even Lavender and Parvati had seemingly grown a posse overnight, making it impossible to get even one of them alone. It was just ridiculous.
"Bad day?"
He sighed, looking up at the stars. "You could say that." Hermione walked up beside him and wordlessly handed him a mug of steaming hot chocolate. Harry blinked. "Where'd that come from?"
"I'm sorry to say I exploited Dobby a little bit. I saw you stomp off in a huff and thought I'd try to help," she said, clutching her own mug with both hands and taking a sip.
"What happened to S.P.E.W.?"
"It's my day off."
Harry grinned into the night and kicked another pebble into the lake. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
They were both silent for a few minutes. Harry sipped his hot chocolate as Hermione quietly melted a patch of snow and sat down on the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest against the cold. Their breath mixed with the steam from their drinks in the air. After a while he shook his head. "Girls are trouble, Hermione."
She laughed. "How indelicate of you," she said, but he heard the teasing note in her voice.
"Sorry. But it's true. I've just about given up on the ball. I'm thinking I'll go solo, and just fake the dancing."
Hermione snorted. "I'm sure that will go well."
"Well, have you got any better ideas? It's impossible to ever find someone when they're alone, you know? Ah, I dunno...it just seems like it's not worth the trouble. By the time I actually do ask someone, they'll already have agreed to go with someone else. I know I'm not that...er...I mean people like Diggory a lot more than they like me, you've seen those buttons, but I dunno..."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "So when faced with dragons you don't bat an eye, but now you can't work up the courage to talk to a girl?"
"Just the one dragon. Singular."
She chuckled. "Poor boy." With a hint of sarcasm she reached over and patted his leg. At the touch, the cold that had seeped into his jeans made contact with his leg, and chills ran up his body. He shivered, suddenly feeling the low temperature. Winter was pretty, sure, but it certainly had its drawbacks. Harry sighed.
"Just seems silly."
"Yes, I suppose it is." They both took sips of their hot chocolate in unison. A thought occurred to him.
"Who're you going with?"
"Beg pardon?" she asked, startled, and blushed. Harry raised his eyebrows. "I—I don't know. No one's asked," she said in a rather small voice, and shrugged. "With whoever does, I guess."
"Oh."
They were quiet again. Harry wrestled with the thought of just asking Hermione to go with him. He needed a dance partner, and badly; she didn't have anyone to go with. They were friends, right? Would it be awkward? "Er...well, I can't dance by myself, like you said," he began, then stopped. It would be awkward. He glanced down at Hermione. She'd wrapped her arms around her legs and was tucking a lock of bushy hair behind her ear. When he didn't go on speaking, she looked up at him. Bugger. He couldn't very well say 'nevermind' now. "Do you, er, I mean, do you think Ron might, you know, ask you?" Bugger! Why was he such a coward?
Was it his imagination, or did she look disappointed? "I thought he might, but hasn't, so I guess not," she said. She dropped her gaze back down to the lake and huddled in on herself a little more. Harry cursed inwardly. He had no balls. Where was he going to get the guts to ask out Cho if he couldn't even ask Hermione?
"Well there you go," he said, and almost groaned. This conversation had started out so well.
"There you go."
He thought he heard her sniffle. Damn it, now he'd made her cry! What a despicable wretch he was! Or maybe it was just the cold. Was it the cold? It had to be the cold. There was no reason for her to cry. Then again, she was a girl. Girls were trouble. "Are you, er, okay?"
"It's cold."
Ah, so it had been the cold. Suddenly Harry felt very conscious of his heavy winter cloak, and very aware of Hermione's lack of one. He sighed. Sometimes it really sucked to be a male. Without a word he unclasped and shrugged out of his cloak, bent down and laid it awkwardly around Hermione's shoulders, then hugged himself as a chill breeze pricked his skin through his sweater. Damn it. Damn girls. Damn everything.
Hermione turned her face up towards his again and smiled in gratitude. Well, that warmed him a bit.
The cold air had leeched almost all of the heat from his drink by now, and he downed the rest of it before it froze. He felt so tired of all the tiptoeing around that came with the stupid Yule Ball. It was all so ridiculous, it made him want to just...casually ask Hermione to bail him out of a bad situation. That was fair, right? There was no harm or awkwardness in needing a friend to help him out, right? People did that all the time. In fact, it was sounding better and better the more he thought about it. This way he could avoid all the gossip about who he was dating or not dating and steer clear of any unwanted awkwardness with a girl he barely knew. And Hermione didn't giggle.
More than anything, it was the last point that decided it for him. Harry swallowed and opened his mouth.
"Well, I've got a lot of homework, and my legs are about to freeze off, so I think I'll just head inside. You coming?" she asked, getting to her feet and stretching. She produced a tissue (somehow girls always had them, even if they had no pockets) and wiped her nose and eyes a little. Harry looked at her, and his confidence died.
"Yeah."
They didn't speak as they walked back to the castle. But later, surrounded by parchment and quills and ink and textbooks in the common room, after Ron had started snoring in one of the big plush chairs, Harry felt a stirring in his stomach when Hermione fell asleep leaning on his shoulder. Things wouldn't change between them, but it still felt...different, from then on. Like they had passed a cornerstone in their friendship.
Much later, he would forget anything he had ever felt for her that was more than it ought to be, but years in the future when he'd been happily married to Ginny for some time and it was the eve of Hermione's wedding to Ron, Harry remembered that he'd wanted to ask Hermione to the Yule Ball when they were fourteen, and it brought a wistful smile to his face.