QLFC — FINAL (yay!) — Captain: your character must put too much faith into something/someone

Summary: Hermione is usually good at doing things the right way, and when it comes to Ron, she believes it will be the same. This time, however, it's not as straightforward as she would have hoped.

Note: A missing moment?

WC. 2665

Leaving It To Fate

Hermione liked to read. Books gave her answers to many things in life — they gave her new information, helped her to solve problems, and they even gave her joy when she found something she really liked reading.

Hogwarts: A History, for example, was one of her favourites. It contained all three. It gave her information about the school (and the wizarding world) that she had been so oblivious to until she turned eleven; there were many answers to many questions in there, which therefore contained the answers to solving many problems; and it was so interesting that she could pore over it for hours, just enjoying what it had to offer.

Books were good. They were easy and made sense. They were simple to understand.

Ron Weasley, however, was not.

Nor were, she thought over breakfast one morning, her apparent feelings for him.

Ron was what she would call a fairly open book, albeit a complicated one. He had a really obvious plot where she always knew what was going to happen the whole way through. He wasn't good at hiding what he was thinking, often speaking those very thoughts before he could stop himself. It left him in many uncomfortable situations that either left someone annoyed, angry or upset with him — or sometimes all three.

Hermione was the main culprit in that. He annoyed her endlessly, yet he was always managing to make her smile, or laugh, or think of him in a very affectionate way.

She hated it.

He was pretty readable and obvious, but unlike easy books, he was the most difficult one she'd ever had to deal with. The most frustrating, and irritating, where his ending almost felt like a choose your own adventure where one wrong choice would send her right back to the beginning of the story.

Until now, she'd hoped that the choices would be made for her. That he'd be the one to choose. But he seemed just as uncomfortable, just as unsure, about the ending as she did, which meant that the only choice left was for Hermione to choose.

He was far too insecure about himself to approach her, even though she was fairly certain he wanted to, but that knowledge at least gave her a small amount of confidence in what she planned to do.

And she could do it. She knew she could. She was a thorough planner who always foresaw every possibility; everything that could go right, but also everything that could go wrong. She trusted her instincts, and those instincts told her that this would work.

She'd been handed the perfect opportunity to progress something she was confident they both wanted. And she was going to be the one to make that happen.

With a near skip in her step that morning, she left the Great Hall and headed for Herbology. Neither Ron or Harry had showed up for breakfast, but that didn't matter. She'd have to catch Ron alone at some point anyway. This was not something Harry needed to be around for.

…

So, it hadn't happened exactly how she'd imagined it. In her mind, she was going to ask Ron to attend Slughorn's Christmas party with her, and she was going to subtly hint that it would be a date, but not be too obvious about it. And she'd of course hoped that he would agree.

Well, he had agreed to go with her, but she wasn't sure she'd gotten her message across clear enough. For one, she'd never actually properly asked him. She'd more told him that she planned on asking him and never got around to doing it properly. He'd agreed to go… she thought. All he'd really said was that he didn't want her to go with McLaggen (which she'd never dream of) and that had been the end.

Not to mention Harry had been present.

But as far as she could tell, they would be attending together, and now she actually had something to look forward to about the party.

She was going with Ron. And maybe — just maybe — something could happen. She liked him, she liked him a lot, and her feelings only grew stronger the more she tried to work him out. He was funny, he was caring, he just lacked so much confidence in himself that it affected almost everything that he did.

She wasn't blind to the perkiness of his mood, however, over the following few days. He was happier, he was extra friendly with her, and they got along very well. They didn't argue, they didn't fight, and the only irritating thing about it all was Lavender kept hanging around Ron and was really annoying about it.

Hermione had heard her talking to Parvati late at night. Apparently Lavender fancied Ron. Something about going to the Ministry on a Thestral to rescue someone and then being permanently scarred, and also fighting a bunch of Death Eaters appealed to her. There were many nights where Hermione was forced to listen to Lavender wonder aloud if Ron fancied her back.

He didn't. Lavender definitely wasn't Ron's type. But it still wasn't fun listening to it all.

And then out of the blue, Ron went cold on her. Nothing had happened — as far as she knew — to have caused it. He was snappy, irritable and angry with her, but he wouldn't say why. Harry wouldn't either, even though she suspected he knew.

Had Ron not been like that prior to the Quidditch match, she would have assumed it was because she'd unintentionally offended him with her comments about the Liquid Luck. He'd thought it too, though. But that comment had just seemed to fuel his anger with her, not start it.

Suddenly, all of her excitement and hope for the party started to dwindle. She wondered if maybe she hadn't been obvious about her invite. Maybe he was upset that she hadn't actually invited him. Maybe he thought he still wasn't going.

Well, she'd set him straight. There was a party happening in the Common Room now. She could… well maybe she could do more than just ask him to go with her.

There would be a lot of people there, most probably drunk on the Butterbeer that someone would no doubt smuggle in. They'd not notice her and Ron, and if they did notice, then they wouldn't care.

So, her plan at asking him had seemingly failed, but Ron always needed something more concrete than that, anyway.

There was a great deal of nerves engulfing her as she searched for him. She really hadn't meant her comment the way it had sounded. He was a good Quidditch player — he just let his low self esteem get the better of him most of the time, which caused him to perform badly.

He needed a confidence boost, and maybe she could do that… by kissing him. Or… it could end very badly if he rejected her. Her instinct told her he wouldn't. She was pretty confident of his own feelings. But maybe he truly was angry with her. Maybe he didn't want to —

There he was. And he was alone. Almost. There were others around him, but he didn't seem to be interacting with them. In fact, he looked rather irritable. Angry. With her.

She still had absolutely no idea what had caused this sudden change in attitude, but upon seeing him, she decided that walking up to him and kissing him straight up probably wouldn't be the best idea.

She'd talk to him first, apologise even. And then she'd —

She sighed.

There was Lavender again. Giggling and smiling and sitting so close to Ron she may as well have been sitting in his lap.

She was talking to him, and whatever she said made Ron smile.

Something inside of Hermione twisted. He'd never really smiled at Lavender before. He'd barely acknowledged her in the past. But she was talking, and he was now laughing, both unaware of Hermione only standing a few feet away from them.

Then it looked like Ron was trying to get rid of her a moment later, but Lavender was persistent. She said something else to him that made Ron freeze for a moment. Then next thing — and to Hermione's absolute horror — she threw herself at Ron, arms around his neck, and kissed him.

It wasn't the fact that Lavender was kissing Ron that upset her. Lavender was upfront and forward and had no shame. She'd always been like that.

It was watching Ron respond to Lavender with a very keen enthusiasm that had tears suddenly springing to her eyes. He wanted to kiss her.

Hermione's chest tightened. It was as if someone was ripping her heart straight out of her. It felt like a betrayal — from Ron.

She'd been so sure, so certain that she could read him like an open book, but she had been wrong. Her instinct had been wrong.

She was nothing more than a friend to him — his best friend.

And the part that hurt the most as she pushed through the crowd in the Common Room, desperate to get to the portrait, was realising how much she liked him.

It hurt so much to suddenly realise just how strong her feelings were. She'd put her heart on the line because she'd been so confident in the fact that he returned her feelings.

Why had he done this? Why was he in the Common Room kissing Lavender Brown? It wasn't supposed to happen that way.

Why was Lavender even interested in him? What was it about him that attracted her? He wasn't… well, he was everything, but...

She held back a sob as she fought her way through the whole of Gryffindor House celebrating their victory.

It was a horrible thing to admit, but as she finally found the portrait hole and climbed through it, she knew that what upset her the most was that she'd never thought she would have to ever worry about anyone else.

She'd never thought anyone else would want to go out with him.

And that had been a mistake.

…

Her hurt turned to anger.

It wasn't at Ron — not really — but she took it out on him anyway. It just seemed that wherever she turned, there was Ron with Lavender, rubbing it in her face. In the Great Hall over breakfast, in the Common Room while she was trying to study… walking down what she thought was an empty corridor.

They were following her — Ron seemingly oblivious to her plight — and he was delighted with himself over the fact that he was with Lavender.

She found herself crying in the bathroom after classes one day, and Luna found her. It was embarrassing, crying over a boy like she was, but Luna (for once) was a person of reason (or hope).

"I always thought he liked you, you know," Luna said, patting her comfortingly on the back after she'd managed to sob out his name. "He doesn't look at that Lavender the way he looks at you."

Yes, well, that made two of them who had been wrong.

She'd never felt more alone before. Harry was a good friend, but he was trying to divide his time between her and Ron.

Hermione just couldn't be around Ron, and eventually, her anger at herself turned to actual anger at Ron.

He cornered her one day, a little bit before the Christmas party. Well, not so much as cornered her, but ran into her — and for once he was alone.

It was an awkward exchange — something neither of them were used to. He hardly looked at her, he shuffled his feet, while she just glared, fighting back tears.

"Hermione —"

He seemed guilty, or remorseful, or something that didn't make him smile. And the way he said her name…

She shook her head. "You don't have to explain anything." Her voice was colder than she intended, and he winced. "I was wrong."

"Wrong?" he said, peering up from the floor to look at her curiously.

"To trust you… to trust myself. To think that you… that we…"

He didn't seem to understand, and she wasn't going to explain. She continued marching down the corridor, letting the tears fall. She didn't even care about wiping them away.

As she stormed away from him, she realised that her instincts had been right all along. The way he had refused to look at her, how he had said her name, winced at her harsh tone…

Her instincts were right. The book was as open and as obvious as it had ever been.

It was her own inability to act on a social level that had messed this all up. And perhaps her shameful belief that no one else would want to date him.

…

Cormac McLaggen wasn't the ideal date to the Christmas party. In fact, he was the most vile human being at Hogwarts, which made him the best option.

It had upset Ron the moment he'd found out, and she'd felt a mild sensation of vindictive pleasure at his distress over the knowledge that she was now 'going out' with the boy he thought to be better at Quidditch than him.

Little did he know, McLaggen was not better than Ron in any way, shape or form. And that meant Hermione spent her night doing her best to avoid him wherever she could.

It was crowded, yet he always managed to track her down. She desperately wanted the night to be over and to get back to the Common Room so she didn't have to talk to him again. This wasn't a date, but more of a plot device in Ron's seemingly never ending story that she still hadn't reached the end of.

Lavender had seemed like the end, but then Ron had gone and convinced her that there was still more with that one look, one act of remorse.

So now she was here with McLaggen, wondering what Ron was doing back in the Common Room and wondering if he was beginning to regret his decisions.

Like she was.

The night dragged on. Harry had gone off somewhere, his mind on other things, and she was continuously trying to avoid the older Gryffindor.

But as she was nearing her decision in leaving, something caught her eye.

She spun to the door, her gaze falling on the striking red hair that was standing before it.

Even now, even after everything, her heart still gave a little jump at seeing him. Why was he here? Why wasn't he —

He caught her watching him and flushed a bright red from the tips of his ears all the way down to his neck. He averted her eyes.

Hermione started forward, wondering if she should talk to him. Maybe the night could be fixed. Maybe it could still end the way she had originally intended it to.

But something stopped her from reaching the door. He'd turned back to look at her and he was smiling. It wasn't obvious, but she'd known him for six years, and it was in his eyes. He was smiling at her.

Kind of.

Then he vanished. He was gone from the door, gone from her sight.

She turned back to the room of partiers, unable to contain the smile that had formed on her own lips.

She knew now how this story would end. It would be complicated, and there'd be many twists along the way, but she understood it now.

This was a story she couldn't control, but one she suspected would have a happy ending.

She had thought that she could be in control of the direction this story — their story — took, but she knew now that she was never the author, and neither was he.

It was fate.

Fate would tell this story.

And this is the final entry for this collection! My team made it to the final round and this is my submission for it. Go Cannons! I'm so excited, and I really want to win because my team has been the most INCREDIBLE group of people to ever exist, and the prize for winning is we can skip sign ups for the next season and stay as a team. I want that so badly, but only time will tell!

Thank you to my team for betaing and no matter what happens, know that each and everyone of you are AWESOME. I love you all!