Harry Asks Hermione.
It was just after class when the bell had rang in a flutter of peals, wailing down the corridor that Harry, with his breath hitched sought out Hermione. He saw her back turned to him, the prominent sweep of her hair and her bulging bookbag. Ron soon followed, lumbering from behind complaining in a shrill voice. They had been casting, casting away and their arms were sore. So they made their way down the swirling staircase that had slits for windows and you could see the grounds and the horizon and three hoops that came out of nowhere. It had been a particularly unproductive lesson with no results. Not a spark from either of the two. Hermione had produced a half ribbon that looked as if it had been manufactured at a low-end muggle factory. Needless to say they were all in a temporarily bad mood at the end of it.
Harry's mind was on other things. As much as possible for him to avoid the question, it had stayed stubbornly and he could not concentrate. Suddenly he felt very conscious of himself, of what he had rehearsed for the umpteenth time. Hefeltlikehewasstalkingher. As if there was something peculiar and sinister about it. The Yule Ball announcement had been made last week and he remembered distinctly Professor's McGonagoll's voice much like creaking furniture, "Potter," she had said, "if I may have a word." And that was it. Quite embarrassing to be sure. It was far worse than a telling off, he reflected.
So he had thought about asking Hermione or Cho and had talked to Ron about it. Though Ron was not particularly helpful and seemed especially horrified whenever the subject was brought off. However Harry could tell even by his own admittedly limited understanding of how these things went, that putting it off was not the best option for them. And then he had realized that Ron was in a far worse off state than him in coming to terms with the situation and had no clear idea. So the dilemma had dragged on for days.
The Great Hall was alive with chatter and live birds pelt-bombing the tables with droppings as usual as the students tried to eat and hold their lunches down. It was Roast beef with potatoes and carrots, jaw-grinding stuff, it was hardly a feast day. There was pudding and melted ice cream together. Harry sat down just as Hermione began to chat absentmindedly about the lesson and Ron mumbled through his helping of food. He himself had been characteristically silent these few days, even more than usual. Still he managed to piece together the info being thrown at him and reply. It was as much he could manage simply to not stammer.
"What's with you today Harry, you seem rather distracted", Hermione inquired.
Nerves, he wanted to say. At you. And he wasn't even sure where it was coming from, hadn't he known her for three years now and he read her like a book. He tried to remember when he had started looking at her differently, it hadn't been overnight, that he was sure. The way the frame of her body and contour of her face was so pleasantly shaped, and the sheen of her skin, the ridge of her nose, eyebrows and teeth. There was something so down to earth about it all that anything sudden and so different in atmosphere would surely come as a shock.
And then Cho. She was a distracting figure sitting two tables away flirting with her girlfriends, always so it seemed to him, half aware of his stares and attention. He thought Hermione might've been aware of it too even though now he was staring past her shoulder. He wondered if she might therefore find it offensive if he decided to ask her?
Ron had finished eating by now and was wiping vigorously with his napkin. He grabbed his goblet, drank deeply, leaned back and sighed contentedly. Now he could talk. Harry stared intently at him for a second, wondering what his reaction might be to any of this. Ron could be rather alarmed and hurt and betrayed by the turn of events without even realizing why.
The hall was in dread mood today and started raining so they trooped out afterwards. Harry was in a daze as they left and he was thinking about opportunity and timing it just right.
Ron could sense something up in the air today, Harry's tone and face seemed rather restrained, it was almost as if he was prepping himself for a House Quidditch Match. But why and what was going on? There was nothing to be anxious of right now. He tried to think, and maybe put it down to the approaching Yule Ball? But they had plenty of time for that! Ron didn't think it would be so difficult as there would potentially be hundreds of students stuck in the same situation as them, that on the eve of the big night it would be far easier to ask around as everyone else would be doing the same. But he didn't want to think about it now.
They had reached the Fat Lady who swung them in. Harry was now wondering how to get Ron out of the way in order to ask Hermione. Really it was quite as difficult as getting to talk to Cho alone. In the end, he decided a direct approach was probably best. "Uh Hermione," he rapped her for her attention as she gazed out of the pages, "I was wondering if-
Ron looked up in astonishment and then walked hesitantly over to Seamus and Dean. Perhaps he had understood.
"-you would go to the Yule Ball with me," finished Harry breathlessly. And as he watched her sinking features, "that is if you haven't already-"
Well if there's ever a next time we could go together, she said. He smiled hopefully, he always felt lifted to be around her nowadays. She had a comforting touch that he somewhat liked. Her voice had a lyrical quality to it.
Was that what was bothering you at lunch? She giggled. Oh Harry, it's just me you know. Just Hermione your best friend remember? Then she had waved a hand teasingly across his face.
The minute after Ron had asked Parvati from the other side of the room and it was a yes.
"Who're you going with?" he mused as much to himself as to her.
"Krum asked the other day out of the blue- Anyways why don't you try with Cho?"
"Really hard to find her on her own," he admitted and almost covered his mouth as it seemed the wrong thing to say but she seemed not to notice. He was shocked.
You've got many secret admirers, Harry thought almost grudgingly to himself. Ron for one as much as he tried to hide and deny it. He hadn't heard what she had said yet. He was probably very intimidated by her come to think of it. Most people were, until they got to know her that was. She was nice, but just maybe a tad bit self possessed at times. The common room was in loud commotion now, and people were in full swing asking each other which made Harry quite glad that he had kept his voice down the entire time. Ron had returned, a brighter shade of tomato but pleased, well pleased as he seemed to swing his arms candidly, almost awkwardly, looking half embarassed but scarcely less pleased.
"Yeah, we saw." Harry said and was tempted to chuckle.
"Anyway it's going real mad in here. Like a live hornet's nest. I didn't think things would be going like this so soon."
"Well you did trigger it," Harry pointed out.
"Eh? Well when I saw you were about to ask Hermione I thought now maybe I should as well you know." Hermione looked affronted but disguised as if she was faking it, but Harry knew better and he could usually tell, or felt he could tell when she was at a loss of what to say. The jokes and gossip and messages would fly faster than broomsticks and he knew he had to act soon. Even though he wasn't relishing the prospect (and he mentally cursed himself for having made so little attempt over the last three and a half years to get to know the female population) of meeting Cho and asking her. It didn't seem the correct procedure even though Krum had asked out of the blue and he wondered whether he oughtn't to become friends with her first. But that also felt strangely distant from what he felt comfortable.
And goodness there were far more important things to attend to and worry about. Strange things that made no sense and he was right to be suspicious, paranoid even. What had happened in the last three years had made so little impression on his overall character that he could still feel as if one day he would wake and find them as mere dreams and fancies of the mind. It was almost as if he had come to Hogwarts expecting things to be wholly different and that extended to very dangerous activities. There were bound to be pieces missing in things from how he saw them and as he felt half torn between naive curiosity and impulsiveness and the reluctance, morbid dread of things that were bound to come this year as well. Harry caught himself in a shudder and opened his eyes and found that Ron was preoccupying himself with nagging Hermione again about the answers to page 315 of Intermediate Transfiguration and unconsciously his mind flitted and he realized he didn't know the answer any better. So he flipped open his own tome, the pages spilling over themselves until his finger stopped, direct on the line.
The bell rang again and a cluster of footsteps rose to answer it. Harry's leg felt sore but he wasn't complaining. As he rose out of the armchoir hoisted the bag of books slung over his back and grabbed his wand (all in reflex motion), briefly he wondered if that preceding conversation had counted as a rejection and then he discounted it as she had offered to go elsewhere at another time with him. Hogesmede came to mind but he pushed it out as as he, Ron and Hermione scurried off to their next class, their black cloaks trailing wildly. Potions, oh joy.