It was stupid, she realized, to not have asked Ron to meet her in Hogsmeade. He asked her to meet him in the common room, but now she just felt awkward sitting in one of the deep red armchairs, waiting. As she was getting ready for the date, she had imagined waiting outside the entrance of Hogsmeade, looking demurely beautiful as the chill turned her cheeks pink—
But here she was, sitting in an armchair in their common room. Hermione played nervously with a strand of hair that she had so precisely straightened, to go along with her fantasy, perhaps blowing seductively in the wind. But now it was all ruined. She felt awkward and out of place.
"Aren't you Hermione Granger?" asked a fourth year, who had been fixedly staring at her curiously.
"Yes, I am," replied Hermione.
The fourth year batted her eyelashes and smiled. "Oh, I know someone who has such a crush on you," she said. This didn't come as much of a surprise to Hermione, because Ron had asked her out earlier that day. To her relief, Hermione saw Harry shuffling down from the boy's dormitory.
"Hello, Harry," she said as he approached. "Is Ron almost ready?"
"Ready?" asked Harry, peering at her with large green eyes, brimming with confusion. After a moment, something dawned on his features and he looked utterly embarrassed. "Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot to tell you. Ron landed detention tonight—I was supposed to tell you."
"Oh," said Hermione, suddenly deflated. Standing in the common room, she now felt overdressed and even more awkward than before.
"I'm sorry," said Harry again, seeing her face. "Would you—like me to keep you company until Ron comes back? He should be back from detention in an hour. You can wait around."
Hermione imagined for a brief moment that Ron would come back to the common room and find her luster had worn off from her hours spent getting ready, waiting for him like a lost puppy dog. He would ask her what she was doing up, to which she would have no answer. "No, that's all right Harry. Thank you, though."
Harry blushed. "I really am sorry," he said. "Let's at least go get something to drink. You can't get all dressed up with nowhere to go."
"No, that's all right," said Hermione, stand up from the armchair. "I think I'm just going to go to bed." The two of them stood in silence as Hermione played with her hair, thinking how a terrible waste it had been. All dressed up with no where to go…
"I'm sorry," said Harry seriously. "I just feel terrible. You look absolutely lovely, and must've spent so much time getting ready for the date, and I just—feel bad about it."
"Really, please stop apologizing," said Hermione. "It's—not a big deal." But she could not conceal her disappointment. She moved slowly toward the stairs of the girl's dormitory, and stopped at the foot to turn toward Harry. "If you could—could you not tell Ron that I had gotten all dressed up?" she asked earnestly.
"Sure," said Harry, peering at her very seriously. Then slowly, before Hermione could register it, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And what Hermione didn't know, as she kissed back this boy who wasn't Ron, is that the night wasn't an accident after all. Ron's big date was actually articulately planned out.
But neither Ron nor Hermione would ever know.