A/N: Hi everyone :)

I'm writing the story of Ron and Hermione – the missing moments from the books Harry wasn't there to tell us about! I'm thinking I'll do some slightly from Hermione's angle and some slightly from Ron's – this first chapter is Hermione. I'm starting with the Yule Ball so this has a bit of Hermione/Krum mixed in. It's cannon – and there's quite a large bit in here I've taken straight from Goblet of Fire, so sorry if it gets a bit dull, but I wanted to include that whole argument.

In this story I'm going to go from the Yule Ball through all the books, and I'm doing one chapter which will be somewhere between the end of Deathly Hallows and the 19 years later chapter.

If anyone has comments, criticism or advice, please feel free to PM or review!

~Mediwitch

Disclaimer: everything you recognise belongs the amazing J.K Rowling.

Chapter One: The Yule Ball

Hermione

Hermione Granger would have described herself as a realist.

While the other fourth year Gryffindor girls talked about boys, clothes, dates, make-up and the Yule Ball, Hermione spent her free time researching House Elf enslavement in the school library. It wasn't that she had no interest in romance - more that she had no interest in wasting away her life dreaming of things which would almost certainly never come true. Besides, she had more important things to be getting on with - like S.P.E.W.

Being best friends with Harry and Ron gave Hermione an insight into the minds of fourteen year old boys; and what she had seen was total inability to comprehend the opposite sex. She figured neither of them really knew what a girl was just yet; this was made clear to everyone by their attempts to get themselves dates for the Ball. Harry had a crush on Cho Chang, that was obvious, whereas Ron seemed to have warmed up to Fleur Delacour; the beautiful Beauxbatons champion who he remained adamant was part Veela. Hermione thought it was a little pitiful to watch him drooling over her every day knowing he had no chance with her – or she might have, had it not made her feel sick to her stomach.

Hermione had managed to put aside her ridiculous feelings, telling herself it was just a schoolgirl crush, because she honestly didn't know what to do with them yet. Whatever she felt, watching Ron gawking at other girls was never a barrel of laughs.

And so, when Viktor Krum had nervously approached her and asked her to be his date to the Yule Ball, she could not help but get just a little bit caught up in him.

Walking through the castle grounds with him asking her questions about her family, Hogwarts, her friends…she realised he actually cared about her answers! It was the first time a boy had ever seen her that way. Usually she was just Hermione – talented and clever, always with her head in a book, a know-it-all. She was the girl who trailed after Harry Potter and his friend Ron Weasley.

But Hermione quickly realised Viktor was not at all interested in Harry. He was interested in her.

And then she knew what everyone meant when they went on about teen romance; she finally understood what it was all about. Because talking, laughing and dancing with Viktor…and kissing Viktor, had been some of the most magical experiences of her life. Their first kiss was under the beech tree, a brisk winter evening a few nights before the ball. Hermione had cast magical protection around them from the cold, and they had been huddled under the tree, watching the sails of the Durmstrang ship ripple in the wind. Hermione was telling him about her first signs of magic.

"It was when I was four," she was saying. "I really don't remember it, but my parents have told me about it. My mum and dad used to have one of those child proofing things on the stairs, and I really wanted to come down one night when I was supposed to be in bed. So I was trying to get past, and it just disappeared! They were really shocked – they must have thought they were going mad! They're…they're muggles, you know…" She looked up for his reaction. It was common knowledge that almost every Durmstrang student was pureblood. She'd never mentioned that she was muggleborn during any of their talks, but she guessed he knew – there was no 'Granger' wizarding family. Still, she was worried to say it outright. His expression however, was merely confused.

"Vot is the matter, Herm-own-ninny?" he frowned slightly.

She smiled slightly at his pronunciation of her name. "Well…I don't know if you would think…well, I'm muggleborn…" she trailed off, uncharacteristically stuck for words. Viktor seemed to have that effect on her.

His expression relaxed as he understood. "There is certain prejudice at my school," he admitted. "But I haff nothing against muggleborns…I like you very much," he smiled. "You are a very special person."

Hermione was amazed that his usually surly features could be brightened so much, just by her. All her.

Special, he had said.

And that was how she felt. As he turned her around in his arms and they leaned in towards each other, their lips brushing together nervously, Hermione forgot who she thought she was, and became someone new.

The ball was wonderful; she had been up there with him all night, living the dream. Every girl in the room was eyeing her with jealousy and distaste, and she could not have cared less. Nothing could've ruined that perfect night.

So she thought, until she later found Harry and Ron;

"It's hot isn't it?" she said happily, sitting down with them. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks."

"Viktor?" Ron spat. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

She looked at him in surprise, trying to see what she might've done to offend him.

"What's up with you?"

"If you don't know," Ron replied, "I'm not going to tell you."

Hermione glanced at Harry for support but he merely shrugged.

She tried again; "Ron, what -"

"He's from Durmstrang!" Ron interrupted scathingly. "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You – you're-" He was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione's crime, "fraternising with the enemy, that's what you're doing!"

Hermione's mouth fell open. After a moment of stunned disbelief;

"Don't be so stupid! The enemy! Honestly – who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?"

Ron chose to ignore this, instead asking; "I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?"

Hermione couldn't imagine why he should care about that. What did it matter to Ron where he had asked her? She suddenly felt uncomfortably hot. "Yes, he did," she replied, pink patches glowing brightly in her cheeks.

"What happened – trying to get him to join spew were you?"

She was angry now; why was what was happening between her and Viktor any of Ron's business? "No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he – he said he'd been coming up to the library everyday to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!"

She flushed the colour of Parvati's robes – somehow saying all of this to Ron was deeply embarrassing. Harry was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, clearly determined not to partake in the argument. Hermione threw him an agitated look; it was clear Ron was being totally irrational! She glanced back at Ron and saw that his expression of rage had faltered slightly, and she wondered what she'd said to hurt his feelings. He quickly recovered, retorting nastily;

"Yeah, well – that's his story."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student isn't he? He knows who you hang around with…he's just trying to get closer to Harry – get inside information on him – or get near enough to jinx him."

Hermione felt as though Ron had slapped her. How dare he? Viktor wasn't using her! He liked her…he thought she was special – that was what he'd said!

Even as she thought it, a small part of her realised it sounded ridiculous. An international Quidditch player thought she, Hermione Granger, was special? Of course he had said that…She mentally cursed herself for believing it, for letting her guard down. She was supposed to be a realist, and she'd let herself be taken in!

But she would not give in to Ron – she had to convince him he was wrong.

"For your information he hasn't ask me one single thing about Harry, not one-" she said, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Ron quickly changed tack. "Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cosy little library sessions-"

"I'd never help him work out that egg!" Hermione said, outraged. "Never. How could you say something like that – I want Harry to win the Tournament. Harry knows that, don't you Harry?"

But Ron interrupted before Harry had a chance.

"You've got a funny way of showing it," he sneered.

"This whole tournament's supposed to know about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them! International magical co-operation!"

"No it isn't!" Ron shouted. "It's about winning!"

Hermione looked at him in disgust. Other heads had also turned in their direction; causing Harry to speak up for the first time.

"Ron," he said quietly. "I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum-"

Ron just ignored him.

"Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are," he said to Hermione scathingly.

"Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione jumped to her feet and stormed off across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd.

She looked for Viktor's face in the mass of people, but all she could see was Ron's angry expression. People were staring at her as she passed, wondering what had happened. Suddenly she just wanted to hide away in her dormitory; Ron had spoilt everything. She pushed her way through the dancing couples to the doors, and ran headlong into Viktor. Their drinks spilled all over the entrance hall floor.

He looked startled to see her tearstained face and she took an urgent step backwards. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Vot is wrong, Herm-own-ninny?"

She took a deep breath and tried to smile, nodding slightly. "I had an argument with my friend…Ron? He's angry with me…that's all."

There was a small silence where Hermione decided Viktor didn't have much of a way with words. "Vould you like to dance?" he suggested, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

She looked up at his surly expression, giving him a twitchy smile. Of course he wasn't using her. He cared about her, she could see it. He had never asked her anything about the tournament! The only time he had mentioned Harry was to ask about the article that Skeeter woman had written about them in The Prophet. She couldn't pretend to understand what he liked about her, but there must be something. She nodded, and he put his arm round her shoulders, leading her back in.

But her heart was no longer in it. As Viktor tried to recreate the mood, Hermione couldn't keep Ron's voice from her mind. 'Yeah, well – that's his story… He's just trying to get closer to Harry…Trying to get him to join spew were you?'

What had gotten into him? He was behaving as if he was jealous…but that couldn't be true, surely? Ron had only asked her to the Ball when he couldn't get anyone else, he'd asked as a last resort! He couldn't really be sore that she'd had to say 'no'?

She eventually said goodbye to Viktor at the foot of the marble staircase and headed back to the common room, feeling utterly fed up, desiring nothing more than to hex Ron into oblivion.

"Fairy lights," she told the portrait miserably.

"Had a tough night, love?" the fat lady replied sympathetically. Hermione ignored her, and clambered through to the common room.

She collapsed into an armchair, looking a little bedraggled. Her hair was falling out of its elegant bun as the Sleakeasy's hair potion began to wear off, her makeup was smudged, and her feet were swollen. She had just taken off her shoes and begun massaging her aching feet when she caught sight of Ron coming in, his expression stony.

"Hey, Hermione!" he called to her. She watched him approach, groaning inwardly; he did not look as if he was here to apologise.

"What?" she asked wearily. "Look, if you want another fight I'm really not-"

He stopped in front of her. "I don't want a bloody argument! I want to know why you went to the ball with Viktor Krum!"

"Because he asked me!" she said shrilly, standing up. "Someone takes an interest in me for once and I'm supposed to say no?"

"He's not the only one who takes an interest-" Ron cut himself off, looking slightly horrified.

Hermione was silenced for a moment. They avoided each other's gaze. "What?" she eventually asked.

"Well, I'm just saying," Ron spluttered. "I'm sure there are plenty of other people you could've gone with – like Harry, or-or me. You didn't have to go with someone from Durmstrang, you should've gone with someone from Hogwarts!"

"So I was just supposed to wait around for you or Harry to ask me? I really don't know what's gotten into you but you're being pathetic! You spoilt everything for me!"

Ron said nothing. He seemed to be undergoing a difficult internal struggle. Hermione felt exhausted and confused; she wanted very much to be alone. "I think I'm going to bed," she sighed, turning away from him.

Her foot was on the bottom step of the girls' staircase when Ron yelled after her: "What's he got – what's he got that other people haven't? You and him going together…it just wasn't right!"

Hermione spun around angrily. Harry was coming in through the portrait hole, but by now she had had enough, she was beyond embarrassment.

"Well, if you don't like it," she shouted, "you know what the solution is, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah?" he roared back. "What's that?"

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"

Ron looked thunderstruck. Satisfied, she turned on her heel and stormed up the staircase. Behind her she heard Ron splutter to Harry, "well – that just proves – completely missed the point-"

She allowed herself a little smile as she closed the door to her dormitory.

The next morning Hermione was sitting by a window in the common room, sucking on the end of her quill and trying to think how best to rephrase a poorly written sentence of her Potions essay. But with the second task well on the way and last night's argument with Ron still all too clear in her mind, she couldn't concentrate.

"Next time ask me before someone else does…!"

She winced at her own words. What if she had made a huge assumption? What if Ron really did just think Hermione was, 'fraternising with the enemy'?

"He's not the only one who takes an interest-"

At that moment Ron came down the staircase from the boys' dormitories looking bleary eyed and ruffling his hair. Hermione looked at him in surprise. It was seven o' clock in the morning; Ron wasn't usually to be seen until midday during the holidays. She saw he had dark circles under his eyes; he had obviously not slept well at all.

"Morning," he greeted her awkwardly.

"Good morning," she replied lightly. She turned back to her parchment when she felt her cheeks flush. He took a seat across from her and stared out of the window for want of something better to do. After a long stretch of silence, both spoke up at the same time.

"Look, Hermione, I'm-"

"Ron, I don't-"

He grinned sheepishly, and she nodded at him to go first. He cleared his throat and said;

"About how I acted last night…I was just…" he trailed off, confused. She watched him closely, waiting, her shoulders tensed. "I don't know what got into me," he admitted. "I'm sorry." It sounded to her as if every word was costing him the world. She sighed, trying to ignore the feeling of disappointment.

"That's okay," she smiled at him. She took a small breath and said; "Uh, I was just doing my essay for Snape – shall I check yours over for you?"

"Potions essay?" Ron raised an eyebrow, "Blimey, Hermione, it's the Christmas holidays! I've got another two weeks to do that."

Hermione chuckled softly and rolled her eyes at him.

"One day they'll get stuck there you know," Ron told her.

"What?" she asked, bewildered.

"That's what my Mum always says," Ron's ear tips coloured slightly. "If you roll your eyes too much, they'll get stuck."

Hermione gave a small laugh in spite of herself, and Ron grinned at her again. She took some fresh parchment out of her bag and titled it, telling him she would do the introduction and he would have to do the rest. Happily, he agreed, knowing all too well she would end up doing the entire thing. Everything was back to normal; despite how both felt a curious sensation in their stomachs whenever their hands brushed together under the table.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think :) The next chapter is to do with the second task...and Hermione being the one Krum would sorely miss :P