The Half-Blood Prince

Quidditch Victory

ELATED! I am over the bloody moon right now!

I don't even care that I needed to drink my best mate's liquid luck to get here because this is bloody amazing!

People have me, Ron Weasley, hoisted in the air as if I were their hero. And today... I am!

The adrenaline for the game and the resounding win was still pumping through my veins.

I hadn't expected things to go this well. I had tried out for the team as a way to become a part of something. To shake off my poor and dirty image at Hogwarts. Especially the apparently immortal story of the howler mum had sent. And... it could possibly have had something to do with needing to prove I could compete with Victor Krum.

Krum.

Just when I thought I was past those confusing and horrible rows of jealousy toward him, I had to hear from Ginny, my sister, that Hermione had snogged that tosser!

So what if he was a professional Quidditch player? And tall? And handsome enough to have his face plastered everywhere and girls following him in flocks? He wasn't that great.

And today... today, I won. Maybe I wasn't better than him in every way, as I wished, but today I am the champion. The only person the entire Griffendor house will be prattling about for weeks, maybe even months! And long after I will still be getting pats on the back and nods in the halls.

I am riding the high from the win, the after party... and probably whatever is left of the liquid luck. I feel flushed and drunk when I my feet hit the floor and a blonde girl, whom I have never met, springs forward and plants her lips on mine. My body reacts immediately. There is no romance or prelude to it, but this is my first kiss and it feels incredible. No wonder people are always snogging every chance they get. The girl's lips are soft and warm and she uses them hungrily against mine, leaving me to just enjoy it.

The crowd that had been chanting my name releases a few whoops for the kiss and I am eating it up. The excitement. The adrenaline. The unyielding lips pressed against mine. This is the top. I've never been here before and now I know why everyone talks about it.

I hardly register that I am being pulled by the hand into a corridor until a female voice speaking the words that my eyes are trying to process.

"Oops! I think this room's taken."

My heart stops and turns to lead, sinking to my stomach and making me feel utterly sick. My high from before completely disintegrated. My hand drops to my side and every part of me wants to launch myself at my two best mates.

I keep my feet planted. There is an explanation. There has to be. Harry didn't give me his liquid luck to swoop in and steal Hermione, right? And Hermione has never looked at him like...

But why is his arm around her? Why did their heads just pop apart as though they had just been snogging? Had they been snogging? I hadn't seen before they responded to the sound of our footsteps as we barreled in here.

Harry looked at me, his gaze sheepish and making my insides twist. Is he ashamed that I caught them when he had never once mentioned being interested in Hermione? I didn't tell him that I was interested yet, but I wasn't exactly hiding my feelings either. I had probed him with questions, or intentionally took the seat beside her whenever I had the opportunity. I never thought it was me subconsciously preventing them from getting any closer, but... had it been? Had I been ignoring the signs that my best mate was falling for the same girl I was?

Hermione's face is turned away and her shoulders are stiff.

Please, say something, 'mione. Turn around and tell me I was a git for taking the liquid luck when you told me not to. Tell me you expected more from me. Tell me you watched the game and you saw how well I did, but that I needed to earn it myself next time. Bloody hell, just look at me so I can see your face and see the emotion in your eyes. Please, say you were just getting some air, or that you were mad at me for the liquid luck, or that you are upset over Harry outdoing you in potions class. Please, 'mione. Please...

I notice then that there are birds singing and flying around in front of her. I'm not an expert on snogging, but from my limited experience only moments before there would be no way she could have been kissing Harry and casting spells at the same time.

"Cool birds," I manage to say as my body relaxes a little and I am able to take a few steps toward her.

Please, don't be falling for my best mate. Please, turn around and say something snarky. Be my little know-it-all and tell me that I should be studying instead of celebrating the win. Just... say something that tells me you weren't in here getting butterflies in your stomach from my best mate. Please, not that.

Bloody hell, it hadn't even hurt this much when I saw her enter the Yule Ball with Krum. I hate myself for what I am feeling, making it so much worse.

Hermione does look at me then. An offended glint in her eyes and she looks like she may have been... was she crying?! What happened?!

The words are on my tongue when she finally speaks, but instead of words that could confirm or deny what my imagination saw happening, she spoke a magical command I didn't recognize. The cute little birds halted their aerial dance and turned to me.

Before I could ask what was happening, the birds each dove at me. I stumbled backward as quickly as I could manage. Each bird slammed into the wall behind me like a projectile and exploded.

My head swiveled back to Hermione when there were no more bird missiles for her to shoot at me.

Her eyes burned with a fury I didn't deserve... unless... I really had interrupted them. This can't be happening.

I took a hesitant step back, my eyes never leaving hers. It took a substantial effort not to run forward and scream at the both of them for not telling me sooner. I wouldn't have been entertaining the idea that she might want me. Why had she even asked me to that party if they were taking steps out of the friend-zone? Had she been using me to make him jealous?

The memory of the first time we met snaked through my brain. The way she gasped and prattled on about Harry being famous and merely casted me a glance to inform me I had dirt on my face as she scurried out the door. Did I even mean anything to her at all?

To keep myself from shouting a string of accusations and swear words at them, I turned to storm out of the room, grabbing the hand of the blonde girl as I went.

Was I in the mood for company?

No.

Was I going to lose myself in her hungry kisses until I was so distracted that the pain of the betrayal didn't phase me anymore?

Yes.

She was safe. Pure physical excitement and attention. No stupid feelings or confusion. My heart wasn't threatening to break from my chest when her fingers merely grazed me as with Hermione. I didn't feel a strong anticipation to be able to see her next smile as with Hermione. And I knew I would go to sleep tonight, without staring up at my ceiling analyzing every way that I could have said something better to her.

I wasn't madly in love with this girl... and that was exactly what I needed.