The Goblet of Fire

The Yule Ball

I stood in the crowd with my date, who I had already forgotten the name of. My mind completely engrossed in the fact that Hermione had turned me down... for another date!

Who would ask Hermione to go to this dance with her?

Neville is here with my sister, Ginny.

Fred and George had dates currently enjoying their company at a table across the room.

Harry is here with me and had secured us both dates.

Who have I been missing that has shown her even the slightest indication that they liked her?

The only person who regularly speaks to her is Malfoy... and speaking isn't what he usually does. It is usually an onslaught of slurs and insults and death threats.

I'm about to ruin my entire night trying to figure this out, when I realize something so obvious I feel stupid for having thought otherwise.

She lied.

She was offended that I had asked her to the ball as a last resort and lied about already having a date. Then she couldn't find one and now she wasn't going to come to the ball at all.

She was too proud. She could have just said yes to me and gave me one of her lectures.

I hadn't asked her first because... well, it made it real. I wouldn't be asking my friend to go with me. I would be asking her for a date. A real date. Where I held her and moved to the music. Where I spent hours in her presence. Where I could get drunk on the lights and sounds and forget that my growing crush on her was being completely ignored and do something stupid... like confess my feelings or try for my first kiss.

I wasn't in love with Hermione. And I wasn't going to risk our precarious friendship on a little crush that might go away.

But did crushes get stronger with each passing day? Did crushes make you jealous when they looked at other people? Did crushes make you terrified of the tingles and warmth that ran through your body at any connection of skin? Did crushes make you search for excuses to spend time together or sit beside them?

I always thought a crush was innocent. An infatuation with the way someone looked or acted. Like how Hermione had looked at Gildaroy Lockhart before she knew he was a fraud. Her crush was gone and she moved on as though it had never even existed.

I don't think I could do that with Hermione. If I somehow tried for more than our friendship... and I ruined it, as I did with nearly everything in my life... she may never speak to me again. I can't live like that.

As much as she drives me crazy at times, she is Hermione. My Hermione. I can't risk losing her.

"Is that Hermione Granger?" my date asks, surprise coating her tone. "With Victor Krum?"

I turn to see a soft pink dress hugging perfectly against rounded breasts and down a thin frame before flaring out over her hips and cascading to the floor. My mouth goes dry and I have to force myself to look at her face. Gone is her frizzy hair, replaced by smooth curls that roll over her shoulders. Gentle makeup highlights her features and a pink lip gloss draws my attention to her lips.

She's...with Victor Krum?! Of all of the possible dates she could be here with tonight, she's with him? How did that even happen?

"No," I say, hoping the words will erase what my eyes can't ignore. "Absolutely not."

But it was Hermione with Krum. Decked to the nines and smiling as though she had just been praised by every teacher at Hogwarts for providing a correct answer.

What. The. Bloody. Hell?

The music starts and the couples begin dancing.

Krum twirls her around and picks her up effortlessly. The delighted smile on her face making my stomach do a little flip. But I can't enjoy the sight, because her eyes are fixed to that Bulgarian git.

What would she even have in common with him? A meathead that is only good at sports. I bet he can't even read. And since that is the only thing Hermione does, they would have nothing to talk about.

Little fissures break out across my heart as a thought occurs to me: What if they didn't need to talk for them to enjoy each other's presence?

I feel sick and I am relieved when we migrate to the table after Harry is finished fulfilling his obligatory dance.

I stare at Hermione and Krum, wishing he would burst into flames.

She looks so happy. Her eyes sparkling and her mouth a permanent smile.

I like seeing her like this.

But I hate seeing that the cause is Victor Bloody Krum.

How did they even meet? Did the dumb oaf get lost on his way to the shore for his run?

I slouch in my chair and fold my hairs over my chest. Who invented dances anyway? They are stupid.

"Ruddy pumpkin head, isn't he?" I grumble to Harry.

"I don't think it was the books that had him going to the library," Harry remarks. At least he seems as miserable as I am.

Some tosser comes over and pulls his date away from the table, but I scarcely notice.

Finally, I see Krum pulling Hermione away from the dance floor and like a masochist, I turn in my seat to see them.

She is grinning and practically giddy. He smiles down at her and brings her fingers to his lips before walking off as if he owns the world.

Hermione looks completely starstruck as she spins around hardly able to catch her breath.

I know I must be scowling, but I can't even bring myself to care because... come on! I turn away before I see more.

Unfortunately she joins us at the table, plopping into the seat by Harry.

"Hot, isn't it?" She asks, completely out of breath. "Viktor's gone to go and get drinks. Would you care to join us?" The twinkling in her eyes drives me to the point of madness.

I sit up and all but snarl at her. "No, we'd not care to join you and Viktor." A flop back into my chair and roll my eyes. How could she even have asked?

She frowns at me. "What's got your wand in a knot?"

I could tell her that I hate the fact that she is here having a great time with someone I could never possibly compete with, but instead, I say, "He's a Durmstrang. You're fraternizing with the enemy." There. That will spook her.

She scoffs. "The enemy? Who was it that was wanting his autograph?" She defends. "Besides, the whole point of the tournament is international magical cooperation," she looks to me and I hope I don't look as miserable as I feel, "to make friends."

"I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind," I tell her, turning away when I see the hurt in her eyes.

She stands and stomps away, turns back as if she is going to yell at me, but to my dismay, she just turns back around and storms off in the direction of Krum.

I hate myself. Why did I have to start a row? I may as well have thrown her into his arms!

"Are you going to ask me to dance or not?" My date asks.

I sigh. "No."

And then she storms off too. I'm on fire tonight with disappointing women.

I mope for the rest of the dance, thinking of the perfect words to pull her back from going too far out of my reach.

As they are closing the dance down, I find Hermione and try to use the perfectly formulated conspiracy theory on her.

"He's using you!" I tell her, walking toward the exit as though my heels were on fire.

She pouts at me, her eyebrows drawing together as they usually did when I did something stupid. "How dare you?! Besides, I can take care of myself!"

"I doubt it," I respond. What am I even saying right now? Hasn't she save my arse more times than I can count? "He's way too old."

She stomps along next to me. "What?! That's what you think?"

I should stop talking, but my vision has gone green. "Yeah, that's what I think."

She stomps and holds her arms out to her sides in that adorable frustration she wears so well. "You know the solution then, don't you?"

I turn to her, confused at her swift change. "Go on." I can't wait to hear this.

She looks me defiantly in the eye and says, "Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does!"

I am dumbfounded. She couldn't possibly have seen my jealousy.

"And not as a last resort," she adds.

I swallow. "Well, I mean, that's just completely off the point," I babble. I don't even know what I am saying anymore. I shuffle toward the exit, hoping she can't tell how busted I am. Then I notice Harry and am thankful that he will now be my distraction. "Harry!"

She whips around at him and snaps, "Where have you been?"

He is barely able to register her words when she adds, "Never mind, off to bed, both of you."

Harry swallows as though preventing him from saying anything and brushes past her and me to get up the stairs.

I follow behind him, terrified of what else Hermione might figure out if I stay. "They get scary when they get older," I mutter too loudly.

Hermione whips her head in my direction and yells, "Ron, you spoiled everything!"

I hate myself for the tears I can hear in her voice.

Harry turns to me as we scurry away like small children. "What is that about?"

I shrug. "Girls are weird."