To get a Weasley boy to notice you, you had to do something drastic.

You had to make him notice you.

You had to make him want to notice you.

The Weasley boys weren't the sharpest knives in the drawer, not by rule. Yeah, so Percy was pretty smart and Bill had got a job as a curse breaker, so he wasn't unintelligent. And then there was Charlie, another one working abroad in a difficult, highly skilled job. And the twins, although still at school, were about to start up their own joke shop, which didn't sound like a job for intelligent people, but they were going to run the business by themselves and had created all of their products.

Ron, realised Hermione, was the only Weasley boy who didn't seem very intelligent. It was he who was the exception, not the rule.

And yet, thought Hermione, it was him that she wanted.

They were polar opposites, really, if you thought about it.

Hermione frowned. She was sat in her dormitory, alone because all the other girls were at breakfast. She had skipped it today, partly because of a stomach ache and partly to garner some thinking time.

She had begun with her essay. Professor Snape had given them an essay all about the effects of love potions and the information she had unearthed had got Hermione thinking about Ron.

Would she need to use a love potion?

She hoped not. That boy was an idiot, but surely if he liked her he would tell her?

And yet she was sure he liked her. She had asked Lavender and Romilda, both girls she knew were quite- she wasn't sure that active was the right word- with the guys, what a guy did when they liked you. According to them, Ron was in love with her.

But he still hadn't asked her out!

And the Yule Ball was so soon. She didn't know what she was going to do. She wouldn't be able to bear going without a date, or seeing Ron with another girl.

Sitting in the common room one evening, warming her chilled hands in front of the roaring fire (herbology was a bitch in winter) she arrived at the answer. She would tease him. She would get a different date. It would be easy. She would choose a stupid boy, someone who needed a date as much as she did. Then she would be able to go to the ball without losing face and Ron would see her dancing with this other, mystery guy. He would be so jealous.

And then… Then she would ditch the other guy. She'd make it seem as if she was alone and confused. Upset from her break up, from being jilted. She'd run to Ron and he would fall for her. Then he'd be stuck with her.

It was all so simple. Hermione cursed herself for not thinking about it earlier; she had lost so much sleep over the Ron problem. Sleep that could have been really useful since the exams would be coming up in several months. If she failed them (she shuddered at the thought) then she would blame Ronald.

Straight away she set about preparing for Ron's 'surprise'. Oh, wouldn't he be gutted when he found that she had a date. And she knew just who she would choose; a person that Ron admired greatly who just so happened to be in the school this year. And he had already taken a shine to Hermione; all she had to do was nurture his affections until he asked her out.

"Hermione, you're a girl."

Hermione glared at Ron, feeling all her plans collapse around her.

"I have a date, Ronald!" she shrieked and she stormed off. He was so inconsiderate, leaving it this late to ask her. After all her hard work she had finally persuaded Viktor Krum, Bulgarian seeker, to ask her to the ball with him and then a certain Ronald Weasley ruined everything by asking him herself.

But perhaps this wouldn't ruin it all. Perhaps it just proved how green with envy Ron would be when he saw who had beaten him to his goal. She had chosen well; there couldn't be a better love rival than Viktor Krum.

Hermione prepared herself for the ball. She didn't usually try and make herself look glamorous, but this time she made an extra effort. It was all to ensnare Ron, after all.

She made her way down to meet Viktor, stepping daintily in her pretty little shoes. Her stomach fluttered with uncalled for butterflies and she inwardly cursed at her inability to stay calm.

A blush rose to her cheeks when she spotted Ron staring at her, his jaw open slightly, but then she turned away, tears springing unbidden to her eyes when she spotted his partner, one of the Patil girls, the Ravenclaw, Padma, standing beside him.

She danced with Krum. All night. He was so... demanding. He seemed to really like her and Hermione felt a bubble of guilt rise up uncomfortably in her stomach each time she saw the way he was looking at her.

"I'm sorry, this can't work out. I'll miss you too much when you go back to Bulgaria," Hermione told the burly quidditch player sweetly. She watched his face, worried he would curse her. Or maybe she was worried that he would cry.

"I can owl?" he asked, but she could tell from his tone of voice that he realised that she meant what she had said.

"I'm going to bed," she told him. "I'm sorry."

She almost skipped off, but she held herself in check and walked delicately out of the room. Part one of her plan had succeeded.

Now part two was to be put into action. Hermione positioned herself on the bottom step of the sweeping stone staircase, her dress pooling around her like silken waves. She held her breath and then poked her wand in her eye in a sudden, quick jab. The tears pooled quickly and once they had arrived she found it very easy to weep.

This was how Ron found her; curled up over herself, a wreck on the staircase, blocking his way away from Padma Patil (what a nightmare) and towards the safety of the boys' dorm.

"Hermione? Would you mind moving?" he asked.

Hermione's head shot up.

"You are so inconsiderate, Ronald!"

It was supposed to make the boy feel sorry for her. To make him crouch down and ask what was wrong. To make him sit with her while she sobbed. And then she would reach in for the attack. She would take him by surprise. She would kiss him. He would fall in love.

He would fall in love.

"Well, if that's how you're gonna be. Bloody hell, Hermione."

She watched as he stormed off towards the Gryffindor tower and the real tears began to pour from her eyes. So much for that.

She would have to rethink her tactics.

It was a poor, dejected Hermione Granger who sat alone in the Gryffindor Common room in the early hours of the morning, wondering if Ron would wake up from his peaceful slumber and sense her presence.

He didn't.

She had never really expected him to, really.


MidnightEmberMisery's Competition

Rules

1. Rating may be no higher than M.

2. All types of writing (from freeverse to multi-chapter) are allowed, as long as they fit the length requirement.

3. Must be longer than 700 words.

4. If Sun Tzu's rule that you were given is confusing, try to figure it out as best as you can. And if you are still stuck, I can provide you with some insight as to the rule's meaning.