Chapter 1: I Know You're a Girl
Ron Weasley bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, the entryway before him almost taunting him. He could feel a thin sheen of perspiration gathering on his brow and dripping down towards his eyes. He had been standing in front of the Hogwarts library for a good ten minutes, and still had not found the bollocks to go in.
I shouldn't be feeling this nervous, he told himself. It's just Hermione. I've come in here to see her loads of times before. Granted, those times were mostly with Harry, but... no, focus, Weasley.
Ever since Professor McGonagall had announced the Yule Ball, a crazy idea had fallen into Ron's head and refused to leave him alone. Yes, he, Ron, had gotten it into his mind that he should ask Hermione Granger, his best friend, to the Yule Ball. He had thought of close to nothing else for a week. He had even made the attempt to pop the question (no, stop it, you git! You're asking her to the Ball, not asking to her to marry you!) a few times when he and Hermione were alone, but someone had always interrupted them. The latest incident had been in the Gryffindor Common Room, at night, in front of the fireplace... but just as he was speaking, Harry had to walk in right then. To which Ron had responded by thrusting his best guy mate into the Common Room lavatory and beating him right upside the head, much to Hermione's confusion.
What if someone has already asked her? This thought was effective in making Ron panic enough to actually enter the library.
He found Hermione at her usual table, poured over books about house elves for her initiative S.P.E.W. With her bushy brown hair framing her heart-shaped face, she looked positively beautiful. Ron felt his pants tighten in a way that they had for at least the last year whenever he looked at his best friend. Taking a deep breath, he approached the table and sat across from her.
Hermione didn't notice him at first, so he cleared his throat. Glancing up from her parchment, she grinned. "Oh, hello, Ron!"
"Hey, Hermione," Ron got out, his heart beating faster. He was about to ask the question, but a different one came out instead. "Have you talked to Harry lately?"
"I checked in with him this morning," she reported gently. "He's stressed. About the Third Task. But even more so about getting a date for the Yule Ball..."
Ron seized on the thread. "Say... while I'm thinking on it... how about going to the Ball with me?"
He kicked himself. He had been so desperate to get it out, he hadn't realized how unwieldy his phrasing sounded until it was too late. With trepidation, he raised his eyes to hers.
Hermione was gazing at him as if she had never seen him before. There was a palpable pink to her cheeks. Her face grew only more flushed as she glanced away. She even started... fanning herself a little. Unconsciously, it appeared.
"Gracious," she breathed quietly. "What would I want to go with you for?"
Were it not for her clearly flustered state, her question would have stung more than it otherwise did. Encouraged a little, Ron parried back. "Well... can you think of some reason why you might?"
A small silence. Hermione shakingly stood and turned away so Ron wouldn't see her blushing, wouldn't see the smile creeping onto her face. "Can't think of anything right now..."
"Hermione." Ron's voice was so gentle, she turned back, just in time to see him transfigure some Galleons from his pocket into a bouquet of roses, and kneel at her feet. Hermione gasped, both hands going to her mouth in astonishment. This had to be a dream - a wonderful dream from which she never wanted to wake up. Who was this young man who looked like Ron, and yet was so sensitive and sweet? Sure, he could be sensitive and sweet when he wanted to be, but this... "Please, love. Go to the Ball with me? I don't know what I'm gonna do if you don't."
Did... did he just call me 'love'? Hermione pondered, certain she had misheard, misheard everything from his first clumsy proposal on. She nearly swooned, and fanned herself again. Ron held out the bouquet of roses to her, and she gingerly took them, smelled them. Then, little by little, she beamed.
"Ron... Why, I'll go with you - if you want me to!"
"I do!" Ron grinned, leaping to his feet, and hugging her before his fear got in the way. "Brilliant! I reckon I'll have to get some dress robes. And tell Harry! See you later?"
Biting back a smile, Hermione nodded. And she watched, her heart floating somewhere in the clouds, as Ron raced out of the library. Just beyond the doors, she heard him whoop in victory.
Hermione stood in front of her study desk in the library, still fingering each and every flower, every petal, in the bouquet of roses. Needless to say, she was pleased. Her head was spinning. Ron, her best friend and her secret crush since she was a little girl, had plucked up the courage to ask her to the Yule Ball! And he had done so in a very creative way. Had he known that roses were her favorite flower? He must have! So far, most boys who asked a girl to the Yule Ball had simply asked the question - no more, no less. At least, from what Hermione had seen. It felt nice to be thought of, and to have been asked: up until five minutes ago, Hermione had not expected for anyone to ask her, let alone go at all. And certainly not on the arm of the man with whom she was in love. Yes, she was in love with Ron – she had recently come to accept it, had stopped denying her feelings.
Hermione had been so lost in thought that she did not hear the tall figure coming up behind her. "Vhat are you thinking about?"
Hermione nearly screamed, startled as she spun about, hiding the bouquet of roses behind her back and from the view of Viktor Krum, the Triwizard competitor. "Um... hello, Viktor," she stammered nervously.
Strangely enough, Viktor seemed to be on edge himself. "If I may be so bold, I vould like to give you a proposition."
Hermione's brow crinkled in amusement. She rather liked the way he talked, his accent. In a way, it was cute. "Yes?"
"Vould you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?" And Viktor took Hermione's hand and kissed it.
Hermione drew a sharp intake of breath. Viktor Krum, the hero of this year's Quidditch World Cup, had just asked her to the Yule Ball! Yes, she was aware that he had noticed her, been eyeing her. And she had been surprised and flattered that she was his object of preciousness in the Second Task.
"I have been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to you, but have never been able to pluck up the courage," Krum explained, actually looking shy.
She found herself seriously considering his offer. Let all the other girls who chased after him and clearly disdained her become all tied into knots over her being a champion's date! She glanced down at her hand still in Viktor's and then shifted her eyes back to the concealed bouquet of roses behind her.
But I'd be betraying Ron... I don't want to hurt Ron...
Hermione made her decision. Turning back to Viktor, she smiled sympathetically. "Oh, Viktor, I feel so honored, but... somebody has already asked me, and I promised I would go with him. I'm really sorry."
Hermione hated to see the crushed look on Viktor's face. His expression made it appear that he was not used to rejection, or hearing "No" at all. He quickly regained a semblance of composure and said, "This fellow of yours is very lucky, then. Enjoy the ball, Miss..."
"Hermione," Hermione smiled.
"Hermy-own," Viktor mangled. Hermione ignored the mispronunciation as Viktor slipped away.