Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Harry and Hermione would have gotten together in the Half-Blood Prince. Hahahahahaha.

Author's Note: A one-shot story about the Hogwarts Betting Pool mentioned in 'The Argument' which also ties in with that story. Do not take this seriously. It was partially inspired by Fred and George in the Goblet of Fire movie. Oh, and, I know next to zilch about gambling. Please bear with me on this.

Dedication: This fic is dedicated to Romulus Lupin of who inspired it.

Hermione Granger, in her capacity as Hogwarts prefect, was patrolling the corridors of the castle one January night when she noticed flickering shadows cast on the wall by the torchlight.

'Who's there?' she called, quickening her pace.

The figures vanished instantly, rapid footsteps echoing around the empty stone hallways.

'Stop!'

She gave chase, only to skid to a halt when the figures split up and took separate corridors. Hermione fleetingly entertained the possibility of Stunning her fellow students with a grim smile on her face. A moment's thought, and she took the passageway on the right.

One of the fleeing students finally slid down onto the cold stone floor, gasping for air. Colin Creevey cursed his own bad timing for setting up that meeting on Hermione's patrol. He fervently hoped that Dawson, a sixth-year Ravenclaw and his earlier companion had escaped as he had. With a swift brushing of his robes, Colin made his way back to Gryffindor Tower at a more sedate pace.

A scruffy boy dressed in pyjamas leapt up from beside the fireplace when Colin entered the Common Room.

'How did it go?'

'We didn't complete it. Hermione startled us.'

Colin's younger brother Dennis pulled a face. 'Set up another meeting. Maybe the library or something. I told you that the corridors weren't safe.'

Colin sighed heavily and flopped into the red squashy armchair. 'I wish we'd never started this betting pool, Den. Who knew Hogwarts students were so keen on gambling?'

In Colin's second year and Dennis' first, the enterprising brothers had set up a betting pool. It was mainly about mundane stuff, such as which house would win the House Cup or the Quidditch Cup or even whether Dumbledore would be wearing blue robes on a particular morning.

Nothing major was at stake, mostly Knuts and a Sickle or two. Things got considerably more exciting come the next year with the Triwizard Tournament. Colin and Dennis made a minor fortune by schoolboy standards when they bet heavily on Harry, going as far as to try and make supporters' badges. Needless to say, given their magical inexperience, the attempt was not successful.

The furore raised by the death of Cedric Diggory and the return of You-Know-Who died down eventually and life settled back into its steady rhythm. The Creeveys, naturally, believed and stood by Harry when the entire wizarding world was in denial of the Dark Lord's return. In a burst of steadfast loyalty, they even restricted the betting pool to Harry's supporters, causing outrage from betting regulars such as Seamus Finnigan. Later on, the pool was put on hold altogether as Colin and Dennis put all their energies into the DA.

Now, in Colin's sixth year and Dennis' fifth, the betting pool was still alive and well with a new focus: relationships, more specifically those of the Gryffindor sixth-years. Practically the entire school was participating in it. It had begun with a joke by Colin that Harry and Ginny looked good together during an unofficial meeting of the DA members. Michael Corner had immediately volunteered a Sickle on their getting together. After that, various student pairings had emerged from all the students, some interesting like Harry and Hermione, some highly fanciful like Draco Malfoy and Hermione and even some that were simply perverted.

There was only two Golden Rules governing the relationship pairings, or shippings for short, as Colin called them: firstly, under no circumstances must any of the students involved be allowed to know of the betting pool and no same-sex pairings. The former was merely to allow feelings to develop naturally without any external influence and the latter was…repulsive, in Colin's and Dennis' opinion. For goodness' sake, there were first-years betting. The kids didn't need to know more than they needed to.

Colin yawned widely and got up from his chair.

'I need to update the scoreboards.'

Dennis followed his elder brother into the Gryffindor sixth-year boys' dorm, where an excited group of punters, both Gryffindor boys and girls, were waiting excitedly to check on the growth of the betting pool.

Colin drew out the slate from its hiding place beneath his bed and enlarged it. Drawing a crumpled piece of parchment from the sleeve of his robes, he began erasing existing figures and chalking new ones on the board. Everyone watched him from a respectful distance. The updating of the scoreboards was a reverential, almost sacred occasion. Especially those who were counting on the betting pool to finance their next shopping spree at Zonko's.

Colin finished his job and stepped away, allowing the eager punters to jostle forth and examine the latest odds.

'Hey, the odds on Harry and Hermione have dropped to 19:1…'

'That's nothing, the betting pool's gotten fatter…'

'Who's that big spender who put 10 Galleons on Ron and Hermione...?'

'Merlin, Finnigan's that confident?'

Excitement on the betting pool had reached such a height, fanatical students were even giving their favourite shippings nicknames. So now, there was Pumpkin Pie, Dramione, Chocolate Orange, Red Moon, The Good Ship and a whole host of other names Colin had forgotten.

As of that night, two months after Colin had cracked his joke, none of the students mentioned in the shippings had done anything, driving their ardent supporters crazy with frustration. A pair had even gone as far as to lock Harry and Hermione together in one of Hogwarts' infamous broom closets. Unfortunately, nothing ever came out of it.

At last, the students retreated from the scoreboards, some smiling and some shaking their heads in disbelief. Colin shrank the blackboard and stashed it back under his bed. Hopefully, tomorrow was a more promising day.

Be careful what you wish for.

The old phrase rang in Colin's mind as he and Dennis fled down the corridor, thanking their lucky stars they had bolted at precisely the right instant. Though the brothers were, by right, not supposed to take sides in the running bets, they had secretly supported Harry and Hermione. He knew that he looked a sight, flushed and sweaty but grinning from ear to ear like a maniac.

After what seemed like an eternity, Colin and Dennis slowed to a jog, then a complete halt, collapsing with simultaneous groans. Neither spoke for quite some time.

'This is not going to go down very well,' managed Colin at last. 'The Good Shippers will be crying foul.'

'I'm not worried about that, actually.'

Colin turned to his younger brother in surprise.

'I'm more concerned about what Harry and Hermione will do to us when they catch us.'

Dennis got to his feet; Colin soon after. 'We'd better broadcast the news.' said Dennis firmly. 'I wouldn't want the punters being held in suspense.'

Together, they walked back to Gryffindor Tower. As soon as Colin put his foot through the portrait hole, he was swarmed by a horde of excited students.

'Harry and Hermione were just in here, looking for you two. They were steaming! What happened just now?!' shrieked a hysterical third-year whom Colin recognized as one of the most devoted Pumpkin Pie shippers.

'What did they do afterward?' cut in Dennis, obviously trying to delay announcing the news.

'Oh, they just walked off quietly. And you haven't answered the question yet! Are you two hiding something?'

Dennis shrugged resignedly.

'Alright then. Listen up, guys!' The last sentence was addressed to the throng milling about the Common Room: the chattering crowd immediately fell silent.

'Colin and I caught them holding hands outside the portrait hole earlier. And when we tried to explain about the betting pool, Harry tried to blast us…'

'But he obviously missed, since we are here to tell the tale.'

There was dead silence, and then the room erupted. The wild cheers of the Pumpkin Pie shippers mingled with the outraged protests of the Good Shippers as supporters of other ships sadly shook their heads.

They would probably resort to writing fiction about their favourite ships, thought Colin.

Author's Note: Sorry about the long delay, people. I had my Senior Prom. Oh, and I will be updating Too Much Left Unsaid very soon!