Once upon a time, there was a stupid git named Ronald Weasley. Ron wanted to go out with a very smart, and very pretty girl named Hermione, who lived in the library. Well, maybe that wasn’t the whole truth, but she was there so often, that she might as well have lived there. Actually, she wasn’t even that pretty, but that was beside the point.
Ron liked her, and that was enough for him. He had never gone out with anyone in his life, but there was never a better time to start, he thought. There was only one thing standing in his way: Hermione already had a boyfriend.
Victor Krum.
Victor was Hermione’s Quidditch star in shining robes. Strong, foreign, and athletic, he was very much a steal, that is, if you were an ogre. Out of all the wizarding boys in the world, she had to pick that one? Ron didn’t understand it. What did Victor have that he didn’t have?
An international Quidditch title, maybe.
The Christmas break was approaching Hogwarts, and the students were quite busy with homework left too late. A thick snow was covering the grounds outside, and all Ron could think about was the spectacular snowball fight he would be having with his twin terrors “ brothers “ Fred and George, in a few hours.
Victor and Hermione were perched together on a chair in the library, not talking. What kind of relationship is that, when the couple doesn’t talk? Ron cleared his throat, stepping out from behind a cluttered bookshelf.
“Victor, may I have a word?” he announced importantly.
“Vat do you vant, Veasley?” asked Victor heavily.
Ron furrowed his eyebrows. “You sound odd, Krum. Feeling alright?”
“I haf a head cold,” he replied hurriedly, glancing back at Hermione. Ron swore she gave the slightest of nods before he continued.
“You vant to speak about Herm-ninny?” Ron heard Hermione let out a small snort of laughter. For a second, he thought he caught Krum cop a smile too, but maybe it was indigestion. Hogwarts was really slipping on food service lately.
“It’s Hermione, and yes, I do.”
“Vat is it, then?”
Ron lowered his voice to little more than a whisper, “I like Hermione. I don’t just want to be her friend. I’d go out with her in a second but there is just one little problem: you.”
“I see. Vat do you vant me to do about it? You vant to duel me?”
Ron paused before replying grandiosely, “Yeah, I do, Krum. Name your time and place.”
“At Durmstrang, ve do our duels differently. You haf three hours to convince Herm-ninny to like you. If you fail, you must play me in Quidditch. If you succeed, Hermione is free to go wiv you. It is quite simple. ”
“Fine. You won’t be seeing me at the Quidditch pitch later.”
“Very vell, then.”
Ron realized his mistake soon after he left the library. He had just challenged a former Triwizard Champion, what had he been thinking? Not to mention, Krum was actually good on a broomstick. Much better, at least, than the flouncing and flailing Ron did during all those Quidditch matches as Keeper for the Gryffindor team.
Krum had left Hermione alone on her chair, muttering some pathetic excuse of needing to use the bathroom. This was Ron’s chance. He had no clue how to begin to impress her, but then again, how do you impress a girl who already knows everything?
“Hermione?”
“Ronald, this had better be good. Can’t you see I’m busy at the moment?” snapped Hermione.
“Well, it is just I wanted to show you that I wrote the introduction and conclusion to my Potions essay all by myself this time.”
For a second, he thought he saw her face brighten, then, “How can you possibly write the conclusion before you write the paper itself? Silly, if I ever did hear of such a thing….” she muttered, clicking her tongue. Several loud paper ruffles later, and Ron took the hint.
Rolling his eyes, Ron stormed out of the library. She was utterly impossible!
Maybe Harry would know a way to get her attention. Where was Harry, anyway? Ron didn’t recall seeing him at lunch. He probably called a last minute Quidditch practice. In a blizzard like this? thought Ron, but then again, Harry had flown in worse.
Ron spent nearly an hour in the Gryffindor common room, watching and waiting. He was beginning to give up hope, when Hermione suddenly scrambled through the portrait hole, balancing a stack of books in her hand.
Immediately, Ron leaped from his chair, “Let me help you with those, Hermione.”
“NO! You’ll scuff them! These aren’t just regular books. I got special permission from Madam Pince to take them “ they’re extremely rare,” she squealed, nearly loosing her grip on the massive tower of books. “Just stay out of my way!”
“Sorry. Blimey, I really do wish that I understood girls,” Ron muttered after she had disappeared from the room.
Slowly, more and more people began trickling into the common room as classes began to let out, and people decided that they needed a break from homework. The common room became a right noisy place, not exactly the right environment for thinking.
Perhaps I will come up with something later, thought Ron. He would rather be force-fed Blast-Ended Skrewts than collect enough courage to ask Fred and George for advice.
One game of Exploding-Snap with Fred and George turned into five, until Ron finally realized that another hour and a half of his time had slipped away. He only had fifteen more minutes to win Hermione’s heart! If she was still in the girl’s dormitory, he might as well forget it. But, no! There she was, across the room, buried in a gigantic book.
He approached her cautiously, brandishing a rose he had conjured minutes before, “I thought you might need this, you seem to have had a rough day.”
“I’m allergic to flowers, Ron. Didn’t you know? Hmm, I must have only told Victor,” she grumbled, ruffling through her book, and dictating to her quill, which scratched away on a blank piece of parchment in front of her.
Ron threw the flower into the fire.
Drastic times called for drastic measures. Ron snatched his wand and headed out of the dormitory. He knew Krum would be heading to the Quidditch pitch by now, seeing as the three hours they had agreed upon were almost up. As he headed out of the portrait hole, he failed to notice Hermione following stealthily behind him.
Sure enough, as Ron crept around the bleachers, he saw the hunched figure of Krum hovering over the crate of balls. How did he get those? Only a Quidditch captain had access. Perhaps when you were as world famous as Krum, you didn’t need explicit permission. Ron snarled in spite of himself, and took careful aim at Krum’s back.
As soon as the spell left his lips, a shower of purple sparks erupted out of his wand, sending him flying into the side of the Quidditch goal posts. Krum whipped around, a loud guffaw escaping him, but was that really Krum?
Harry!
“Well, mate, I thought you’d try to pull something on me tonight, but that was almost too much,” Harry choked, his eyes streaming.
“Bloody hell, Harry, what “”
“Polyjuice Potion, mate, have you forgotten already?”
“But my wand “”
“No, Fred and George’s trick wand, they lent me one when I first visited Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. I knew it would come in handy later, right, Hermione?”
“Hermione?” Ron croaked, twisting his neck around so fast that it hurt.
Hermione approached the two boys, hiding her face behind her hand, “Oh Ron, I knew you would never tell me you liked me unless you were really pushed to. I had to resort to other means of coaxing you along. I needed someone’s help, so, I asked Harry.”
“You know that I will have to get you back for this, Hermione.” snapped Ron, lying in a crumpled heap on the ground.
One look at this pitiful sight, and the three of them lost all form of control.
“R-Ron, I have something to say,” Hermione hiccupped, in-between yelps of laughter.
“Oh yeah, what may that be?” gasped Ron, clutching his side.
“I would love to go out with you.”
The three of them traipsed back to the castle, wet, muddy, and tired. But, there is only one little thing left to say to wrap up this tale; they lived (almost) happily ever after.