One thing that Hermione had learnt over the last two years was that quidditch could make anyone nervous. Viktor wasn't the most susceptible to nerves, but one of the chasers on his team had nearly had a full flown panic attack when they were in Germany. Hermione suspected it had more to do with a break in routine that had occurred than anything, but the principle still applied.
Ron was nervous, to say the least. He looked like he was going to be sick. Hermione was reluctant to urge him to eat for fear that he would retch and it would be pointless. Harry, for whom quidditch was the least of his worries, was urging Ron to eat something.
"Come on Ron," he said. "Just one piece of toast."
Ron shook his head. "Can't."
"Then just drink some juice," Harry said.
He handed Ron a goblet of pumpkin juice before tucking a golden vial back into his pocket without so much as a thought to stealth.
"Tell me you didn't," Hermione groaned.
"Didn't what?"
"Don't drink that," Hermione said to Ron. She turned to Harry, hissing "you know that it's illegal to use a luck potion in a sporting event."
Ron took a look at the goblet in wonder and guzzled it down before Hermione could do anything. He then turned to his food with renewed vigor. He shoved food into his mouth as fast as humanly possible.
"Ron, slow down. That's gross," Hermione admonished.
"What's gross?" Neville asked. He had finally managed to finish his charms work and as such was later to breakfast than normal.
"Ron chewing whit his mouth open," Harry said.
Neville shuddered. On the rare occasions that Ron wasn't hungry, there were few souls courageous enough to encourage him to eat. Mostly because it resulted in exactly what Ron was doing at that moment.
Neville quickly averted his eyes away from Ron. He didn't need to see Ron eating, much less in the way he was. He couldn't blame him, with the match looming over everyone. But no one wanted to watch Ron eat.
"You and I are going to have a talk after the match," Hermione told Harry.
"What's going on?" Neville asked.
"Nothing of consequence," Harry said.
Neville gave him a pointed look. "If Hermione is telling you that she's going to 'talk' with you later, it's most certainly something of consequence."
"I've got to go get changed," Ron said. He hurried out of the great hall.
"Harry put liquid luck into Ron's pumpkin juice," Hermione explained once Ron was gone.
"You do know that's highly illegal, right?" Neville said.
"I know, but I don't think the placebo effect is," Harry said smugly.
"You didn't."
Harry fished the vial out of his pocket. The seal was still unbroken.
"Is that what the placebo effect is? Making someone think that something will happen?" Neville asked.
"Sort of. The placebo effect is typically used to describe what can happen with muggle medicines. Some people see effects because they think that because they took something it should happen," Hermione explained.
"So you made Ron think that you put liquid luck in his drink?"
"Just to give him some confidence," Harry said. "He's a good keeper; he just gets nervous."
"You're going to have to tell him," Hermione said.
"I will," Harry promised. "Just, neither one of you tell him until after the game is over."
"Like we've got much of a chance to do that," Hermione mumbled.
"We won't," Neville said, just as much for her as himself.
Harry flashed a grateful smile at them before heading off to the changing room. He nearly walked into no less than three people. One of whom was Padma, wearing one of her sister's Gryffindor sweaters.
"Sorry Pavarti," Harry said before heading out.
"What's gotten into Harry?" Padma asked.
She sat down next to Neville and picked up a piece of toast. She smeared orange marmalade over it before taking a huge bite.
"I'm thinking Ron's pre-match jitters," Neville said.
Padma swallowed, marmalade still sticking to her face. "Ron's pre-game nerves are affecting Harry?" she clarified.
Neville nodded, finding himself distracted by the jam still sticking to Padma's face. He couldn't find his voice.
Hermione smiled to herself and handed Padma a napkin. "You've got marmalade on your chin."
Padma took the napkin and wiped the mess from her face. She then turned to Neville. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Neville's cheeks turned red and he cast his attention downwards. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Hermione was doing her best not to laugh. Neither Padma nor Neville would have appreciated that. And the quidditch match would be so much less fun without her friends with her. Instead she stood up.
"Where are you going?" Padma asked. "There's still an hour before the match starts."
"I know. I was just going to go get a book."
They both smiled at her. "Only you would bring a book to a quidditch match where your own house was playing," Neville said.
Hermione knew that wasn't true. About half of the Ravenclaws were seen reading at all of the quidditch matches, regardless of who was playing.
"I just want to have one on hand," Hermione said.
Padma gave her a knowing smile. Padma had one stashed away on her person. She likely wouldn't pull it out during the match. But she had it. Padma never went anywhere without a book.
Hermione didn't like to bring her books into the great hall unless they were safely encased in her bag. Eating meals in the same room as Ron was just one of her concerns. She could also be bumped, jostled, or crashed into. All which could damage her books.
"Meet you in the stands in half an hour?" Hermione said.
That would give them enough time to finish eating. Hermione had eaten a bit before seeing Ron eat and subsequently losing her appetite. Padma hadn't seen Ron eat. Neither had Neville, but he had enough experience that Hermione knew better than to rush his eating.
"Sounds good," Padma said.
Hermione climbed back up to her dorm, running into more and more people as she went. It felt like the whole school was in the corridors. Not the oddest thing, but tricky when one was going against the flow of traffic. Eventually she made it.
Lavender and Pavarti were still in the dorm. Clothes were strewn all over their beds. Hermione had seen them fret over clothes before, but only when a boy was involved.
"It's hopeless," Lavender said as she flopped onto her bed.
Hermione managed to keep her chuckle low as she opened her trunk to look for a book. She hadn't decided what to take, but figured she would just grab the first one she found. She grabbed one and shrank it before she shoved it in her pocket.
"Of course it isn't, Pavarti reassured her best friend. "He's not going to be paying that much attention to you anyways. It is a quidditch game."
"She's right," Hermione said. "It doesn't matter who you're trying to impress. All the attention is going to be focused on the pitch."
"Actually, it should be on the quaffle," Lavender muttered to herself.
"Is this about Ron?"
Lavender blushed, giving her answer without so much as a word.
"She's fancied him for a while, but that that he was interested in you," Pavarti said.
Lavender smacked Pavarti with a pillow. "You aren't supposed to tell her that."
"You weren't going to, and she might be able to help," Pavarti retorted.
"Ron doesn't talk to me about girls," Hermione said. "I've got no clue who, if anyone, he fancies."
"Told you," Lavender said.
"It's not necessarily bad news," Pavarti said. "He might not have noticed anyone yet."
"We've been in the same classes for five years now. I sincerely doubt that he's ignored my existence for that long," Lavender said.
"This is Ron Weasley we're talking about," Hermione said. "The love of his life, at least for now, is food."
Both Lavender and Pavarti considered what she had said. If was true that Ron loved food. It he loved food more than certain people had yet to be determined, but wasn't entirely out of the question.
"Then how do I get his attention?" Lavender asked.
Hermione shrugged. "You'll have to figure that out by yourself. I'm afraid that I don't have a lot of experience with that."
Pavarti rolled her eyes. "You're engaged. You can't tell me that you have absolutely no clue how to ge a guy's attention."
Hermione flushed. If she and Viktor hadn't been soulmates, she wasn't sure how things would have played out. She probably wouldn't have given him much of a thought until the tournament. Even then she would likely be more annoyed than anything.
Hermione knew that Viktor couldn't control his fans. As much as she knew that he sometimes wanted to. But they had driven her crazy. And without the soulmate thing to make her bear it for his sake, she might have hated if Viktor had ever taken an interest in her.
Then again, she liked to think that in any version of reality, she and Viktor would have found each other. At least for a short while.
"Yeah," she muttered. "I'm marrying the first guy I dated. I don't know if that says much."
"It means you know how to keep a man," Lavender said. "You dated for a year and a half before you got engaged. Probably closer to two years. No one really knows."
"Padma might," Pavarti said.
"A year and a half is a pretty good estimate," Hermione said. "I don't think we were really dating much before the yule ball."
"So what should I wear?" Lavender steered the conversation back towards the matter at hand.
"Honestly, just wear Gryffindor colours. Then go talk to him," Hermione said. "He's never going to notice you if you don't talk to him."
Lavender looked down at her hands. "I don't know if I can do that."
"If I can talk to Viktor Krum, you can talk to Ron Weasley. He's far less scary," Hermione said.
"Only if you promise to come save me if I screw up horribly."
Hermione nodded. "Sounds fair. But I have to go meet Neville and Padma. I'm going to be late."
She rushed out of Gryffindor tower and almost ran to the pitch. It was much faster going with the flow of everyone else.
"Hey guys," she huffed once there.
"What took you so long?" Padma asked.
"Your sister and Lavender."
"What are they up to today?" Neville asked.
Hermione smiled. "Lavender's got a bit of a crush on Ron."
"Might be good for him," Neville mused. "He could at least have an excuse to get out of Harry's obsession with Malfoy."
"I second that," Padma said.
They were still talking when the match started. It was only when the Slytherins started singing that they turned their attention to the game. They felt bad for Ron, having to hear the derogatory song about his skills as a keeper.
But, the Slytherins soon quieted when Ron blocked shot after shot. Hermione suspected that it was the placebo effect on Ron, but she wasn't about to complain. She was actually proud of Ron. And even more proud that it was all him, no matter what he thought.
Eventually Harry caught the snitch. Gryffindor won. There was sure to be a big party. Hopefully Hermione's dorm would be empty. If not, she was going to visit Ravenclaw so she could have a somewhat quiet evening.
A/N: Hopefully the fact that this is a longer chapter makes up for how behind I've gotten. Sorry.