disclaimer: These characters and the world they live in belong to JK Rowling. I wish they were mine, but they aren't. The small amount of plot in this story is mine, as are the words.

A/N: Part of the "Just Another Cliché" series.

The Hero Always Gets the Girl… Right?

Ron sat in History of Magic, totally oblivious to what was happening around him, scouring his brain trying to remember. It was no good. He simply couldn't think of a single one. If it had been almost anything other than what it was he could have asked Hermione, but he couldn't get her help with this.
No, there was just nothing for it. He wasn't sure that anyone other than Madam Pince had noticed, but Ron
was spending a fair amount of time in the Library lately. It wasn't for class, of course. One could only expect a person to change their set ways so much, after all. No, definitely not there for class. The reason he was there was very different. And rather silly, actually.
Ronald Weasley was currently reading fairy tales. By the shelf. And after that he planned to start on the romances. And from there? Well, he just hoped he found what he was looking for by then. Because if he didn't he had no idea what to do next. Since he had no plan he was, of course, unable to find what he was looking for. He felt lost. And overwhelmed. If it wasn't where he had looked who knew where he'd be able to find it. There were more books in the Hogwarts Library than even Hermione would ever be able to read, and she had a severe headstart on him.
So Ronald Weasley gave up.

This whole crazy business had started about two months before the tragic abandoning of Ron's quest. He had run into Malfoy in the hall (Literally. And not quite accidentally.) and the usual taunts started. Then he had said it. Following some ridiculous comment about Ron and Hermione and two dozen children with bushy red hair.
"Shove off, Malfoy!"
"Oh. You're right, Ron. I really am sorry. I wasn't thinking when I said that." And the little git truly did look sorry. "After all, it's always the hero that gets the girl, isn't it? Know where I can find Potter so I can stop wasting time on his sidekick?"
This truly below the belt comment was followed almost immediately by
the very loud (and echoing) sound of Malfoy's nose breaking. It sometimes happens in stories such as this that as soon as a person gives up on something it immediately happens. And therefore you might be expecting to hear that Ron had left a book on the table and was just taking it back to the shelf when it slipped quite conveniently from his grasp and opened to a page on which a story (such as the one Ron had been hoping for, of course) began. But this is not one of those stories. And, with great reluctance, I must tell you that no book wiggled from his grasp and opened knowingly to just the page Ron needed to see.

He had only wanted to find one, really. And he wasn't able to. In all the bloody books he'd read there hadn't been a single story where the sidekick got the girl instead of the hero.
So Ronald Weasley moped about for days after having tragically abandoned his quest.

Yes, I can tell that you find it silly for me to refer to this great read-in as a quest. But it was. Not all quests involve danger to life and limb. And this was one of immense importance. Because instead of danger to life and limb Ronald Weasley had embarked on a quest that contained great danger to heart and, possibly, soul. And giving up on a quest of this nature is perhaps even more dangerous than embarking on it to begin with.

Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Ronald Weasley moped about for days after having tragically abandoned his quest.
Being in the story, though, he had no idea that he has two great advantages. The first is- Well, that will be explained later by someone much more important than myself. But the second is that, even having given up, by simply beginning his quest Ron had, quite unwittingly (as is generally the case), become the hero of a story. This story.
But all stories must have an ending, and so we'll continue (with no further interruptions from me).

Harry noticed Ron's moping, of course, and thought it was about something like Quidditch, because seventeen year old boys are really rather oblivious. Hermione also noticed Ron's moping. She, however, also thought it was about something 'silly' like Quidditch. Now, in Hermione's defense she had truly wondered if there was a bigger reason. But the moping conveniently began about a week before a very big game and Ron's nerves over Quidditch were infamous. And, of course, Ron was more than willing to accept Harry's conclusion, because it meant he was a normal Keeper instead of love sick boy. (Let me ask you: what love sick boy would pass up that chance? Now you understand.)
When the moping continued after they won the game, though, even Harry
began to wonder what was wrong. Before he could think beyond this to
asking Ron, however, Hermione decided to do something about it. And
Harry (more than a little relieved to not have to ask his best mate what the problem was) readily agreed. "Ron?"
He looked up briefly, presenting the rather pathetic ghost of the smile that made Hermione blush slightly every time. (But really, seventeen year old boys and being oblivious.)
"Can I ask you something?"
Her very polite question was answered with a shrug. And so she sat next to him on the bench.
"Why have you been, well, moping? For so long, I mean. No, I mean, I
thought you were nervous about the game but now it's passed and you won
and you're still moping so- Why?"
"I haven't been moping!"
"You have most definitely been moping. Do you know that I've actually
TRIED to start fights with you in the past week and a half? Any Ron other than a moping Ron wouldn't be speaking to me right now." She grinned really quite adorably.
"I couldn't find something. And I really needed to find it."
"In the Library? I mean, is that why you were there all the time?"
See, Hermione really is as clever and as fast a thinker as people say she is, you just have to give her a chance. "You noticed that?"
"You in the Library? Of course I noticed, Ron." This comment earned her a bit of a smile.
"Yeah, that's why I was there."
"What were you looking for there?"
"Just a story. Well, a type of story. But I don't think it exsists."
"I'm sure it does, Ron. Somewhere there's at least one of every type of story."
"Not this type."
"Why do you need it?"
"I just do. I really do. But it doesn't matter now. I've given up on trying."
"Well, Ron, if you need it to be there so much, why don't you just write it yourself?"
Ronald Weasley looked at Hermoine Granger as though the light of God
had just begun emminating from her. (Or the Whomping Willow, which
happened to be in the background for what Ron could see.)
"Hermione, you're bloody brilliant."
And before she could blush or tell him not to curse or tell him not to be so silly or even just look rather smug, he was kissing her. She kissed him back of course, because this is that kind of story. But at the end of their kiss she asked a question.
"What story were you looking for?"
"One where the hero doesn't get the girl."
She blushed quite prettily and he moved some of her very-much-still-bushy-thank-you-hair behind her ear and kissed her again.
"But Ron, in Aurtherian legend the hero doesn't get the girl. Well, not really. Although I suppose it could depend on how you look at it. And then there's-"
Ronald Weasley was no longer interested in finding the story he was looking for, though. For the very simple reason that he had found it.