This is my first Harry Potter fanfic - so please don't judge too harshly! Personally, I have nothing against the Weasleys but Ron was a right git before/during the Yule Ball, and I just wondered - what if Viktor had never asked Hermione? Plus, I've been kinda interested in Mahoutokoro since I read about it on Pottermore.

Note: most of the flashback scene was taken directly from the books with me adjusting a few lines to suit the story.

Disclaimer: I do not, and probably never will *sigh*, own Harry Potter.

Hermione sat in a corner of the library and pressed her hands to her tomato-red cheeks in a vain attempt to cool them down. How dare he?! She silently fumed, remembering Ron's comment.

10 minutes ago, in the Gryffindor common room

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" said Hermione loftily. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you."

Suddenly Ron turned to look at her, and narrowed his eyes, as if seeing her in a new light.

"Hermione," he started, "so - you're a girl . . ."

"Oh, well spotted," she replied acidly.

"Well - you can come with one of us!"

"No, I can't!" Hermione snapped, feeling her cheeks turn red with anger and embarrassment.

"Oh come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has . . ."

"I can't come with you," Hermione said, slowly as if to make sure Ron got the message. "Because . . . because I'm already going with someone!"

"No you're not!" Said Ron. "Look, I know you probably don't want to go with me - or Harry for that matter - but you're not going to get any other offers are you?!"

Hermione reeled back, as though she'd been slapped. Ron's words had hurt her - badly. She knew she wasn't as pretty as other girls, and was a bit of a know-it-all, bit still . . .

"Ronald Weasley," she said in a voice shaking with barely suppressed anger. "Just because it's taken you three years to realise I'm a girl, doesn't mean no-one else has!"

"Okay, okay," the red-head said, "we know you're a girl. That do? Will you come with one of us now?"

"I've already told you!" The brunette was practically quivering with anger now. "I'm going with someone else!" And she stormed off towards the portrait hole and left.

"She's lying," said Ron flatly, watching her go. "There's no way anyone would ask her, she should have jumped at the chance to go with one of us - now she'll be holed up in the library, hiding from us." Ron snickered nastily, and Harry was mildly shocked at the behaviour of his 'best-friend'.

Not going to get any other offers, are you? . . . Not going to get any other offers . . . Not going to get any other offers . . .

Ron's words had hurt more, because they were close to the truth. She didn't have a date for the ball, and she might have accepted going with him or Harry, but she refused to be anyone's last resort. Especially Ron Weasley's. She would just have to brew a potion to make herself ill or something, no big deal. Normally, Hermione would have just moved on with her thoughts , but for some reason Ron's words just kept repeating themselves over and over in her head.

Not going to get any other offers, are you? . . . Not going to get any other offers . . . Not going to get any other offers . . .

She stuffed her hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs as her anger turned into sadness. Tears leaked down over her cheeks. Ron could be so . . . insensitive! She had tried to ignore it, but over the last few months he had been making more and more snide comments towards her, doing 'boys things' with Harry and generally excluding her from their group. Harry wasn't doing anything to stop it, and Ginny . . . well, the girl that Hermione had once thought a friend had turned her back without a second thought.

Hermione was so deep in thought that she didn't notice a shadow fall across her until a slender arm handed her a tissue. She took it with a murmured thanks and wiped her eyes before looking up. Her tawny eyes met the strangers' purple-flecked black ones.

She offered a small watery smile and introduced herself. "My name's Hermione. Hermione Granger."

The stranger returned the smile. "And I am Hisao di Loreto, a visiting student from Mahoutokoro wizarding school in Japan."

Hermione smiled. Japan was one of her favourite countries - one of her mothers friends had moved there after she graduated, and Hermione and her family had visited several times. Hisao's accent, though . . . "Excuse me if this is rude, but are you Italian?" She asked him shyly.

His face broke into a smile. "I am! How did you notice? Not many people can recognise an accent as diminished as mine, not to mention I study at a Japanese school."

"One of my parents' business partners is Italian, but only has a weak accent from living in Britain for so long. Yours sounded similar. Oh, do you speak Japanese?" Hermione asked excitedly, her tears of only a few moments ago completely gone.

Hisao chuckled. "Hai," he replied.

To his shock, Hermione began speaking fluent Japanese, and they held a conversation for a few minutes.

"Well, Hermione Granger, I must say I am pleasantly surprised I expected you to be another bigoted British wizard, but not only do you treat me like a person, but are able to converse with me in my favourite language!" Hisao exclaimed.

Hermione grimaced at the mention of bigoted British wizards. "Oh, trust me, I've had plenty of people be discriminatory towards me because of my blood. Mudblood, you know."

Hisao scowled at the last word. "Whilst I may not know much about British wizarding culture, I do understand that word. Don't refer to yourself in those terms - I have known you for all of twenty minutes and already like you more than those pureblood Slytherins. My father was a . . . what do you call them? Muggle-born."

Hermione's eyes went wide, and she smiled brightly as she realised that she might be making a new friend. "Hisao, uh, san? Is that right? I apologise but my honorifics are a bit rusty."

"Just call me Hisao, we are in Britain after all - not Japan!" He said pleasantly.

"Okay, um, Hisao, you can call me Hermione. Or Mione, that's what my close friends call me - or used to call me . . ." Hermione forgot what she had been about to ask him, and her expression grew sad.

"Hermione," a male voice said, shaking her out of her reverie. She looked up into the eyes of her new friend.

"I am no mind-reader, but I can tell something is wrong - something that has to do with your friends and perhaps the upcoming ball?"

Hermione gasped. How did he guess?

Hisao pulled her into a hug and stroked her hair as she sobbed into the front of his robes. When she had finished crying, he listened attentively to her story, and had an angry expression on his face once she was done.

"This Ron Weasley is a ridiculous, what you say, asshole! Sì, è uno stupido, stupido che non riesce a vedere la vera bellezza anche quando è in piedi proprio di fronte a lui! Figlio di puttana!" Hisao's accent grew stronger until he started ranting in Italian. Hermione knew a few words, enough to recognise the phrase at the end. Figlio di puttana - son of a bitch.

She gave Hisao a small smile, grateful for his concern, which seemed to snap him out of it.

He took her hand in his and dropped to his knees. "Hermione, you are the most beautiful witch I have seen since arriving - and you don't even try! This Ronald Weasley is stupid for not seeing you, and I would like to take this opportunity to ask you to the yule ball, mia rosa."

Hermione blushed and pulled him to his feet. "Yes, you great idiot." She murmured into his robes as she embraced him again. "So, now that we're going to the ball together, how about we learn a bit about one another."

"Very well, rosa. My name is Hisao Tatsuo di Loreto. My father, Raphael, was a muggleborn Italian wizard who attended Mahoutokoro, where he met my mother, Hisui.

"His parents were Japanese emigrants who lived in Italy, so he grew up learning both Italian and Japanese, similar to me. Wizards who attend Mahoutokoro begin their education at seven, but don't board until eleven, and my parents knew they wanted to send me there. Soon after I turned seven, I began my schooling, and lived with my mother's parents to make things easier, and then boarded at eleven.

"I hate fish, but love rice balls - which are basically sushi but just rice, and my favourite drink is peppermint coffee. I'm addicted to chocolate, and my favourite colour is indigo. On my 9th birthday, my parents gave me a swooping evil - a kind of giant butterfly that is very agile and all but indestructible. That was my favourite present." Having finished for now, Hisao flopped into a chair, his hair falling attractively across his face. "Okay, your turn."

Hermione sat down opposite him and tucked her legs under herself. "Okay, my name is Hermione Jean Granger and my parents are Mary and Richard Granger, and they work in the muggle profession of dentistry.

"I grew up just outside of London, and attended a muggle school since the age of 5, then at eleven left to attend Hogwarts. I love spaghetti carbonara, and my favourite drink is mango juice and my favourite sweet food is carrot cake.

"When I was twelve, my parents got in touch with some contacts in the wizarding world, and, without me knowing, went to Diagon Alley to buy my gift. They got me a self-updating edition of Hogwarts, a history, a new cloak and several rare potions ingredients I would have been hard-pressed to get myself. Not only were the presents great, but they were so thoughtful as well." Hermione smiled at the memory. "Also," she said hesitantly, "a few . . . things have happened so far at Hogwarts. I could tell you but this might take a while."

"Go ahead," said Hisao. "We have tons of time."

Hermione smiled at him again. "Okay, in our first year, Dumbledore hid a powerful artefact known as the Philosophers Stone in the castle. It was guarded by a Cerberus and Devils Snare amongst other traps. We ended up going down there because we knew someone was trying to steal it. That someone ended up being our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirinus Quirrel, who was harbouring the spirit of the Dark Lord, Voldemort. Harry defeated him and the stone stayed safe, but Quirrel died.

"Then in second year, a diary possessed Ron's younger sister, Ginny Weasley, and opened the chamber of secrets. This released a Basilisk who petrified a number of people including myself and almost killed Ginny. Again, this was a piece of Voldemort's soul at work, but Harry managed to beat the Basilisk and destroy the diary. That years DADA professor was a ridiculous peacock of a man who knew nothing about Defence.

"Then in third year, a notorious criminal, Sirius Black, escaped Azkaban. It turns out he was Harry's godfather, and James', Harry's dad's, best friend from Hogwarts. Sirius was supposedly their secret keeper, who then sold them out to the dark lord and later blew up a street killing a bunch of muggles and Peter Pettigrew, another of his childhood friends. This, of course, turned out to be false, and it was actually Peter Pettigrew who had been the Potters' secret keeper and sold them out. Not only that, but Peter was still alive, and had been living in his animagus form of a rat for the last decade. The defence teacher from that year was a werewolf named Remus Lupin, who had also been friends with James, Sirius and Peter during their time at Hogwarts.

"Now, this year, someone entered Harry in the Tournament without his knowledge, much less his permission, and he's in a very awkward not to mention dangerous situation." Hermione finished at last, breathing heavily.

Hisau's eyes were wide, his mouth hanging upon and an amazed look in his eyes.

"Sweet Merlin, rosa, how are you still alive?!" He exclaimed, making Hermione giggle. "Well, if your adventures are anything to go by, I think we'll be having an interesting few months here!"

Hermione groaned. "Please don't say that - I just want one year without anything drastic happening. One year! Is that so much to ask?!" She said dramatically.

Hisao stood up and offered her his hand. She took it and was pulled to her feet. "Well, as it's now eleven o'clock, I think we should probably get moving." Hisao said, and they walked towards the doorway, chatting about little things like the weather

They walked together all the way to the Gryffindor portrait, where Hisao kissed her hand and they said their goodnights, with Hermione offering to show him around the school. He bowed exaggeratedly. "Until then, mia rosa," he said and walked off. Hermione watched him until he vanished round the corner before going through the portrait. She walked to her dormitory with a smile on her face, and slept better that night than she had in weeks.