Title : Statistics
Author : Stabitha
Rating : PG? PG-13?
Pairing : R/Hr and some D/H
Hermione sighed for about the fiftieth time that day. Well, fiftieth would be a rather large exaggeration, but in times like these it was worth it. One of her best friends, Harry, had begun dating an enemy of theirs about a month ago. Draco Malfoy.
Malfoy... was something she had to begrudgingly admit she didn't understand at all. He hadn't changed from the asshole he was, and Harry hadn't become involved with the Dark Side to the best of her knowledge, so she was confused.
Confused was something she hated. She knew a lot of things, but there were things that her friends were better at than her. Like Ron. Ron was better at wizard's chess, which was strange because it was a tactics thing and tactics and the like were something that took a lot of knowledge. Hermione knew her grades were outstanding, where Ron's weren't terrible. He didn't do his homework and didn't try nearly hard enough. Everything was about Quidditch and girls.
But anyway, back to the point, right? The point was she didn't understand Harry and Malfoy's relationship at all, so she asked. And Harry answered.
"Hermione, don't you see it?"
She shook her head, no she didn't see it at all. About then Malfoy strutted up in that arrogant way she hated and smirked.
"My, Granger, I'd expected better of you. Your observation skills are lacking." The light grey eyes weren't on her at all, but on Harry.
Harry grinned. "Even Malfoy gets it, thankfully," for which he received a bite on the earlobe that he didn't seem to mind very much. "We're in love, 'Mione." Their lips met in a kiss again.
She rolled her eyes. "Harry, you just think you're in love. You'll learn later." She was confident he would.
He turned away from kissing Malfoy and stared at her. Gawked was probably better vocabulary for the wide green eyes staring at her. "No, Hermione. He's my true love. I would know."
Malfoy nodded, his aristocratic nose wrinkling a bit. "We might as well have been fated for each other..."
Hermione gawked back at Harry. "Harry, there are more than six billion people in the world. Out of all six billion and however many, your true love happens to be in school with you? Happens to be someone you know fairly well? That's highly unlikely." Hermione pulled her hair away from her face, getting into lecturing mode.
"Also, Harry, lots of people think they're in love. People get married all the time, and one third of these marriages end in divorce. That means another third ends unhappily with people staying together for some odd reason, and it only leaves on third left. Also, half the people in a couple have cheated on their significant others according to the statistics, and much more would. Be realistic."
Malfoy shook his head. "Granger, you obviously don't understand love at all. It's not a statistic. Love is... well.. It's a choice. If you're reluctant, that it will end. If you regret it and want something else, it will end. True love isn't just you being fated to be with someone forever, it's you choosing that you want their happiness over theirs, because you know they want the same for you." The blond shook his head.
"If that didn't get through to you, I'd ask Ron about it."
Ask Ron? But why? She'd been pacing the common room since Harry and Draco had "left to shag." Too much information, but really, they'd left her too deep in though to be properly horrified. Ask Ron. Ronald Weasley. The youngest of the male Weasleys, the second to last child, only above Ginny. A tall redhead who had just grown into his gawky tall body this summer. He wasn't well muscled, but he was fit enough, almost a little skinny. Ron had tons of freckles, which, on occasion she had wanted to color in. A weird though, but it would be fun. Ron, with the vivid red hair, the keeper on their Quidditch team. Ron...
Who had just walked in, and had been watching her pace for a few seconds.
"Troubled, Mione?" He had a warm, kind voice, not too deep, but deep enough.
Hermione shrugged. "Don't go in your dorm. Harry's up there with Malfoy."
Ron nodded, making a face. "Don't know what he sees in the bloke, but as long as Harry's happy, I guess it's alright." He laughed lightly, his shoulders shaking a bit.
"I asked today, about them, and why they're together. I don't get it at all, and you know how I am when I don't understand things." She pouted slightly, biting at her lip.
Ron stared at her. "You don't see it? Harry and Malfoy are in love. Even I see it, Mione." He smiled at her, slinging an arm over her shoulder.
"Love is a difficult thing to believe in, Ron. If you look at the statistics, anyone could be fated to anyone. There are way too many people in this world for people to find their supposed soul mate anywhere, without traveling the whole world, and surely not everyone even has one. Plus, many marriages end up unhap-"
She was silenced with a callused finger on her lips, and a smile from Ron Weasley. "May I say something?"
When she nodded, silently, he took his finger away, and began.
"Hermione, when I first met you, I thought you were an annoying know it all. Then we became friends and I found out it was true, no, don't interrupt... Anyhow, but I learned that there was more to you. You were a beautiful, smart, talented girl with a knack for getting Harry and I out of trouble. Then came Krum, and I realized something. And you seemed to like him, but eventually that ended and now here we are."
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers momentarily. "Do you know what I realized then? I love you, Hermione Jane Granger, and there no statistic that could stop me from doing so." Ron leaned over and kissed Hermione lightly, pulling her into an embrace.
From the common room door came whispers, unheard by the new couple.
"About time," said one blond Slytherin.
"You think she understands it yet?" replied the famed Gryffindor, with a kiss.
"I'd say so."
