Hermione had liked Ron since they were first graders. She did her best to pretend she found him to be as distasteful as wearing tennis shoes to a wedding, but it was impossible to lie to her own brilliant self. During the summer, she would talk about him with her few muggle friends. All they could ever say was that he seemed like a terrible guy. Who cared if he was funny? Or wonderfully ginger? Anyway, what does it mean to be 'wonderfully ginger'? This Ronald Weasley was a prat. Who would tolerate, much less like, someone who pointed out your flaws so rudely and insensibly?
Hermione didn't know what to think. Sure, her crush wasn't rational; however, love is never rational. She tried to forget about him… It seemed impossible, until their fourth year, when Hermione saw the phrase "one nail drives out another" embodied in a breathtaking ginger. Ha! Another Weasley.
xxxx
The Triwizard Tournament became an opportunity for self discovery. Hermione understood she could actually attract more than rampaging trolls and dumb classmates in need of help. Krum didn't take his eyes off of her. It was uncomfortable, but an interesting new experience. Plus, Ron appeared to be just a tiny bit jealous.
When she wasn't worrying about Harry or studying or practicing magic, Hermione was daydreaming. She felt silly picturing Ron and Krum fighting over her. It was stupid to desire that. Still, it was fun and there was no harm in it, right? Maybe she shouldn't have wasted so much time thinking about such dramatic scenarios, where Ron would finally confess his feelings for her. Maybe that way she would've taken his comment about the Yule Ball -the stupid 'It's one thing for a bloke to show up alone, but for a girl it's just sad…'- more lightly.
Krum had already asked her if she wanted to go with him and she sheepishly said she was going to think about it. Now Hermione was certain of her answer, she was going to make Ron eat his words.
Hermione turned towards her friend, ready to tell him she had already been invited. "Git," she heard -sadly, it wasn't her own voice- "that's no way to ask someone to a dance." She smiled warmly. Fred was shaking his head in disbelief. The tall, lean and funny ginger leaned over the table, took Hermione's hand, and whispered seductively: "Hey, Hermione, would you care to go to the dance with me?"
"Why, of course, Mr. Weasley," she giggled. If her choices were the stoic and slightly creepy Krum, the dumb Weasley, and the funny Weasley; the outcome was obvious -no matter how much she liked the dumb Wesley. Fred kissed her hand and grinned maliciously at his little brother's outraged face.
Ron stormed off.