Chapter Text
"Because I don't want you to go to the ball with Viktor," Ron blurted out. His face, including his ears, was a searing red that matched his hair. "I want you to go with me."
Deafening silence followed. Hermione's mouth hang a little open as she gaped at Ron. He, on the other hand, refused to look at anything but Hermione.
"And why is that?" Hermione asked in a more neutral tone. She closed her mouth the instant she realized them hanging open.
"I - I don't know," said Ron, helplessly. "You're supposed to my friend, not his. I was there first!"
"First?" Hermione nearly snorted. "Do you think I'm some thing that you can proclaim your possession of?"
Ron's ears were getting redder by the passing second as he spluttered. "No! Of course not. I was just saying - I'm closer to you -" Hermione's eyebrows quirked. "- No, I mean - oh goddammit -" "Ron!"
There, he closed his eyes for a moment as he desperately tried to clear his thoughts.
The courtyard they were standing in was bare but for a few leaves rustling from the autumn breeze. Others, including Harry, were up in the castle eating dinner.
Ron had pulled Hermione behind for a talk, but now he was doubting this move. He wondered why he thought it was a good idea to try to convince Hermione. Obviously, she wanted Viktor as a partner. Obviously, she'd have enthusiastically talked about it with Ginny for days.
Obviously, Ron thought bitterly, she liked him. Why wouldn't she, when a world-famous Quidditch star told her he was interested in her?
So it was obvious she would want Viktor, not some hopless idiot with hand-me-down lacey party robes.
His courage dropped.
But as he opened his eyes and looked at the cross-armed girl staring at him, he couldn't help but feel his guts knotting together. The image of Viktor holding Hermione's (currently ink dotted) hand formed before his eyes. She laughing at his jokes, her almond brown eyes twinkling, they dancing together. And maybe - after the ball, sharing a secret kiss in a deserted courtyard (just like one where they were standing in now,) with the soft laughter of the ball ringing in the background.
And for a reason not yet realized by Ron, he found himself hating the idea.
So although his courage had evaporated and doubt had crawled up his heart, he pressed on.
"I don't want to you go to the ball with Viktor. I don't want you to dance with him, laugh with him, or as a matter of fact, spend any quality time with him." Hermione's arms flung out in desperation. "But," Ron hastily added. "I wouldn't want you to do that with any other boy."
That definitely got Hermione's attention.
"I don't know why, Hermione," his nervous hand rumpled his hair, "I never had a girl as a friend - well any friend, as a matter of fact - before I met you and Harry. Maybe you being my first girl mate has gotten me possessive over you, or maybe I'm just jealous you got a date. But one thing is clear - I want to spend my first ball with you, not some random girl who decided to pick me up. And I wish you would want the same."
Hermione did not seem totally pleased by this confession, but her tone was eased as she spoke. "I want to spend my first ball with you too, Ron." Ron looked hopeful at this. "But I already told Viktor yes and I can't take it back." Ron's face fell. "-But I guess I can make my way out so we can enjoy the ball together for the later half."
Ron considered this. "I still hold by my first argument -" Seeing the look returning to Hermione, he quickly added, "But if that's what I'm being offered, I want it."
Hermione nodded her consent, and they stood in awkward silence before they heard voices coming from the path up to the castle.
Hermione quickly checked the time and groaned. "Dinner's over in ten minutes."
Ron shrugged. "Want to just go to the kitchen and grab bites?" Then a cheeky grin crawled up his lips. "Race you there."
Before Hermione answered, he started jogging toward the castle. "Ron!" Hermione cried in disbelief but only half meant it as she started after him. She couldn't mask her smile and was half thankful to the chilly air and the running to defend the hotness that was starting to warm up her cheeks.