Title: Hermione's Yule Ball
Rating: K+
Chapter #: 2
Ship/s: Ron x Hermione
Era/s: Hogwarts
Genre/s: Romance, General
NOTE: I recommend you read this in 3/4 width and with the font size 2 steps bigger than the preset. It looks a lot nicer and much easier to read, I think:)
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be rewriting the epilogue right now.
Another day of waiting crossed off, another tedious night in the common room to follow. Hermione had been persuaded to venture downstairs by a pleading Lavender and Parvati; she had succumbed to agreeing after a short while of begging. Although she had tried to pass off as reluctant, however, a fraction of her was dying to see Ron and Harry. Partly because she hadn't seen them at all that day, what with it being a Saturday and so not having to go to classes, but also because she had to check that he wasn't wrapped around some Gryffindor girl that he had secured a date with in her absence.
Checking her attire was appropriate before heading down the spiral staircase a little behind Parvati and Lavender, Hermione sighed. She would play nonchalant that evening. Knowing that Harry and Ron thought they had to tread on eggshells around her made her feel guilty; she was ready to show them a happier face, to put both parties out of their misery. Around the lower steps, when the common room opened up before her, she caught a flicker of red hair and her heart performed a somersault. But before she could take one step closer to the sofa near the fire where her best friends were lounging, she was sidetracked by Neville.
He tapped her shoulder and gestured her over to the corner. With one last fleeting look at Ron and Harry, neither of whom had spotted her, she followed him.
"Hi, Hermione, um ..." began a dithering Neville. They had stopped in such a fashion that gave Hermione an unobstructed view of the boys, who were chatting to Fred and George. "I - I just wanted to ask you ..."
"Yes, Neville?" Despite her best efforts to disguise it, a hint of her exasperation was released along with the question. She assumed he was after help with Potions or Charms, which wasn't uncommon, yet if that was the case why was he wavering so much?
"Yule Ball with me you'll go?" Neville stumbled over his words in a rush to spit it out, his face flushing scarlet instantly. "Er, I mean, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"
It took all of Hermione's might to refrain her jaw from dropping. As if her wishes had been granted, she'd been asked ... but not by the right boy. She considered Neville for a moment. He was kind, reliable, honest and sweet, though not academically outstanding - oddly enough, his attributes mostly matched up with Ron's. Realising this made Hermione feel even worse to let him down. She couldn't straight out say 'no'; that would be far too rude. However, she had to respond quickly, else Neville would suffer as much internal hurt as she did. "Oh, Neville, I'm extremely flattered," she started, grimacing inside as she watched his face drop in anticipation of the imminent next word, "but someone's already asked me, sorry."
Finding herself burdened with a huge lie, as soon as the words had left Hermione's lips she regretted them. Neville was in Ron's dormitory; what would she do if he passed on the false information and the latter thought her unavailable? Though she highly doubted he returned her feelings for him, and decided that she mustn't get ahead of herself. Sure, there had been a few moments between them in the past, but Hermione had convinced herself that it was just wishful thinking on her part believing that Ron had felt the little sparks too.
"That's fine, no worries," replied Neville glumly. He attempted a flicker of a smile, causing a wave of guilt to crash over Hermione. In an attempt to reconcile, she stopped him as he turned to leave.
Looking straight into his eyes, she said, earnestly as possible, "You know, Neville, if you had asked me first I'm sure I would have said yes." Finishing her little white lie with what she hoped was a cordial smile, Hermione nodded slowly and made to walk away, leaving a triumphant-looking Neville redder than ever.
Before reaching the fire, Hermione paused to glance over at her friends; none of them appeared to have spotted her yet. For a fleeting moment, she didn't want to head towards them and converse. But that notion passed in an instant, and so – with as much poise as she could muster – she walked towards the boys at the sofa, trying to induce a slight Beauxbatons wiggle into her step.
"Oh, evening Hermione," called George Weasley. He was sitting next to his twin, Fred, across from Harry and Ron. Upon seeing Hermione, Fred scooted over and made room between he and George for her to sit. She did so with a smile and murmured greeting.
Harry looked towards the clock above the fireplace's mantle. "Where have you gotten off to all day? Me and Ron didn't see you at all" – he shared a hesitant glance with Ron before continuing – "you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine, honestly, just felt a little ill, that's all."
Opposite from her, Hermione noticed Ron had not yet met her eye. He was currently throwing glances all about the room and scratching the back of his neck, seemingly trying to avoid looking at her. Noticing this threw Hermione back into a full self-doubt mode. Had he realised that she had feelings for him? Had this ruined their friendship? Did he not return them? Did he hate her now, for wrecking the status quo?
Countless other thoughts like these flew through her mind, whilst the tiny, optimistic patch of her brain sent out others: perhaps he had heard from Neville that she wasn't available, and this had upset him? Or maybe the awkwardness was due to him harbouring affection for her and not knowing how to put it? Maybe the fact she was sitting in between his brothers and not next to him had irked him?
As the positive- and negative-thinking sides of her mind duelled, Hermione tried to keep focused on what the others were saying. Harry was chuckling and the twins high-fiving, so she assumed a joke had been told and laughed a little too.
"So, only a week to go, eh?"
She mentally cursed Fred. Why had he had to bring up the one topic she was desperate to avoid?
"Ah, of course!" joined George. "Angelina had second thoughts yet, Freddie, or has she still not seen your face?" He winked at Hermione, whose laugh was genuine that time.
"Oh, shut up, else I'll tell Katie about that time last year, with the gnome—"
"You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I, Georgie?"
The twins never failed to make Hermione smile, and as Harry jokily asked for more details about that particular anecdote she had to scamper off the couch else face intercepting George's thump at Fred. Their harmless fighting continued as she looked at Ron, wondering what he made of it. His eyes flickered to hers for a moment, a reflection of the amber flames glowing in their irises. She couldn't quite decipher his expression: it was closed and difficult to read. Not understanding why he was acting so strangely saddened Hermione, and she suddenly didn't want to sit with him anymore. Feigning a headache, she excused herself from the group around the fireplace and jogged up the staircase to her dormitory, leaving a bewildered Fred, George and Harry and an anxious-looking Ron behind.
