A/n: Written for QLFC's Procrastination Thread: Quidditch Supplies. Prompts: [pairing] Ron/Hermione.

Summary: Ron and Hermione bet on whom Harry's dating.

This one's for you, Ash. Happy birthday! Hope you enjoy it!

Bet on It

"Shall we start at, say, 20G?" Dean asks as he arranges 5 stacks of galleons in a line. The four other men sitting around the table mutter their assent. Dean nods and pushes the coins to the centre of the circular coffee table. Looking at his friends with a grin, he rubs his hands together. "Alrighty, then. Who wants to go first?"

There's some fidgeting and shuffling from two of the five, the only ones that seem to have any sense of virtue.

"I'll go," George says, clapping his brother on the back. "And stop looking like you've killed a man, Ronald, it's all in good fun."

Ron bounces his knee, looking uncomfortable. "I don't know, mate. Should we really be betting on whom Harry's dating, especially after he got pissed that one time and told us how miserable he was alone?"

"But he's not alone anymore, and that's exactly why we're doing this—to celebrate!" Seamus exclaims but sobers down when Ron shoots him a glare. "Look, mate. If it makes you that uncomfortable, you're free to leave. Nobody's forcing you to do this."

Ron glances to his right, where Neville seems to be contemplating Seamus's advice. He suddenly reaches around Ron to grab a pint from the cooler behind Ron's stool, twists open the cap, and chugs for a solid minute before setting the bottle down with gusto.

"Count me in." He nods at George. "You still going?"

The men laugh and whoop at Neville's enthusiasm, clapping him on the back and cheering him on. George pulls out his pouch and jiggles it. "I've got enough coins to go all evening, boys, you best prepare yourselves."

The exclamations and enthusiasm continues. Ron takes a long swig from his bottle, growing more inclined towards joining in on the fun but unable to shake off the guilt weighing down on him. Harry would've bet on you in a heartbeat, mate, the devil on his shoulder whispers. "That's not true," he mutters to himself.

"Ron, you in or out?" Dean asks.

Ron fists his pouch, the reassuring weight of the coins only adding to his conflict. He looks around the circle of faces, each wearing an expression of expectation. Bloody peer pressure. He sets down his pouch.

"Alright, I'm in."

He sighs for the dozenth time that morning as he sits reading the newspaper and eating breakfast. He can see Hermione's gaze fixed on him as she bustles about, pretending to be busy in the kitchen when it's more than obvious that she's dying to say something. He sighs again.

She comes around with two mugs of coffee, sets one down before him, and takes a seat in the chair opposite him. She watches him for a long moment as she sips on her coffee.

"You're going to burn a hole in the paper," Ron finally says, folding up The Daily Prophet and setting it aside. "What is it?"

Hermione shrugs, feigning nonchalance, and Ron rolls his eyes. "'Mione, come on. You've been hovering all morning. What is it?"

"Nothing, just wondering how boys' night went."

Ron stares at her, and she fidgets. "Since when do you care how boys' night went?"

"There's no need to be sullen, Ronald, I'm just making conversation."

"No, 'Mione, you're beating around the bush, and you know I hate when you do that." Ron relaxes his shoulders and asks, gentler this time, "What is it?"

She hesitates, and he wonders what in the world is making her so nervous. She's obviously dying from curiosity, so why not just ask? I'll never get women.

"I heard about the bet," she finally says, refusing to meet Ron's eyes, and he tenses up. Is his poor decision-making in a half-drunk state going to lead to another row? He really just wants to eat his breakfast and get through the day in peace...

"Oh," he says in response. When she looks up at him expectantly, he shrugs. "What about it?"

Hermione twirls a strand of hair around her finger, and Ron is perplexed by her behaviour. So… she's not mad?

"Whom did you bet on?" Hermione asks.

Ohhh. Ron hides a smile behind his mug. Of course Hermione is curious about her best friend's dating life. Hell, she's usually the one Harry goes to about these things, and Ron is always the one to get second-hand information about Harry's dating life. So the fact that the tables have somehow turned this time around isn't something he wants to let pass so easily.

"Why do you ask?" he says, putting his mug down, unable to hide his smile.

"Oh, don't be so smug," Hermione says, waving him off. "But seriously, who do you think it is? I've probed and prodded and guessed and begged… I've done everything short of using Legilimency on him, but Harry just refuses to tell me who it is."

"So you also think he's seeing someone?" Ron asks.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Of course he's seeing someone. Do you think Harry's the kind of person that can be that happy when he doesn't have someone to take care of and protect and shower with affection?" She makes air quotes with her fingers when she says protect. "Do you know our best friend at all?"

Ron scoffs, "You make it sound way worse than it is."

"Oh, please. What would someone with the emotional range of a teaspoon know?"

Ron points the teaspoon he was using to mix his coffee at her. "Uncalled for."

She holds up her hands. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just mad that he suddenly doesn't trust me enough to tell me who it is."

"You know that's not true."

"Oh, I know," Hermione says, waving her hand dismissively again. She leans forward, as though to tell him a secret, and he has the urge to tell her that there's no one but them there but holds his tongue.

"But, his refusal to tell me got me thinking. What if the person he's seeing is someone I wouldn't approve of?"

Ron snorts at that. "You, approve of someone Harry wants to date? Has that ever happened before?"

She frowns at him. "I've approved of enough people!"

"Yeah? Like who?"

"Ginny," Hermione says after a moment's thought.

Ron laughs. "The first two times, maybe. Not anymore. Merlin, I myself disapprove of them, and she's my sister."

"Yeah, no, seriously, their relationship is a toxic cesspool," Hermione says immediately with an expression of disgust. "They're great as friends, but being in a relationship for too long really brings out the worst in them."

"I hope you remember these are your two closest friends you're talking about," Ron says as he munches on a biscuit.

"I'm saying it because they're my two closest friends." She picks up a piece of toast and asks, "Marmalade?" Ron nods, and Hermione begins to slather the toast with his favourite orange marmalade. She continues, "It's like—take you and me, for example. Sure, we fight more often than not, and sometimes it's even gotten violent—"

"On your part, with your throwing and breaking things, not mine," Ron interjects. "I'm not an abuser, thank you very much."

"Oh, shut up, Ron. Here." She gives him the toast and picks another one up to lather marmalade on. "Anyway, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me," she shoots him a glare, "you and I fight, too, but we never deliberately say things that we know will really hurt the other. We don't use each other's insecurities and weaknesses like weapons. Our fights are just petty, silly stuff because we're both hot-tempered. But theirs…" she trails off, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Ron says, saddened by the memories of all the times he'd seen Ginny crying herself hoarse and Harry drinking himself into a stupor. "They're great people, but they're just not right for each other. And I think, as the years went by, and the number of fights grew and the number of times they broke up and got back together increased, it just reached a point where there was more negativity and resentment between them than there were good times." He sighs. "And I'm glad they finally realised that."

Hermione reaches out to take his free hand. She smiles with affection, and it lights up her eyes; he squeezes her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. It's moments like these when he's so grateful for her.

She pulls her hand away and offers him the second piece of toast. "So, anyway, we're both in agreement that it isn't Ginny?"

Ron nods. "Dean bet that it is, though."

Hermione blows raspberries. "If he's so confident over a losing bet then he's clearly doing it for amusement. It's the perfect opportunity to take the piss at Harry, after all."

"Dean's also a victim, you know," Ron says in defence of his friend. "How many times has Ginny rebounded on Harry with Dean?"

"Oh, please. He knew exactly what he was doing when he got himself wedged between them. When's Dean ever been serious about anything, least of all Ginny?"

"True enough," Ron agrees. After all, the only reason Ron continued being friends with Dean is because Ginny yelled at him for being a prude and ruining her fun when Ron had told Dean to leave his sister alone if he wasn't serious about her.

"Whom did the others bet on?" Hermione asks before taking a bite of toast.

"Seamus thinks it's Cho," Ron says with a snort.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Seriously, they run into each other one time and suddenly everyone thinks there's love in the air."

"Tell me about it," Ron says, finishing his coffee. "Sure, Harry admitted that he'd go out with her again if it came up, but rumour has it that she's engaged to Oliver Rivers."

"That notorious crime journalist?" Hermione asks, surprised.

Ron nods. "They were in the same House back in Hogwarts, remember?"

"Where'd you get this information from?" Hermione asks, sounding sceptical.

"What, you don't trust my sources?"

"Not the rumour mongering ones, at least."

"Fair enough." He reaches for a muffin but Hermione slaps his hand away. "Hey!"

"You've had enough sugar this morning, Ron, don't overdo it."

Ron grumbles but acquiesces to her demands. "Terry Boot told us," he continues. "Did you know he works in forensics?"

"I did not," Hermione says, crossing her arms. "Why don't you talk to me about this stuff more often?"

"You said you hate when I talk shop at home." Ron eyes the muffin longingly and wonders if he can ask Hermione for more coffee and snatch one when she's not looking.

"Only because you'd start ranting about a case and then clam up the moment I started asking questions!"

Ron gestures with his hands and says seriously, "See, there's this thing called confidentiality, that you may have heard of…"

Hermione smacks his hands away again and picks up the plate of muffins. "And for that, you don't get any muffins!"

"Yeah, I asked for that," Ron mutters to himself as Hermione Levitates the plate to the kitchen counter.

"What about Neville and George?" Hermione asks, bringing attention back to the juicy gossip.

"Neville and I actually think it's this girl from work," Ron says, scratching his chin.

"What girl from work?" Hermione demands, crossing her arms and looking angry for reasons Ron doesn't really understand.

"Her name's Cara Smith. She got transferred recently, and Harry's been asked to supervise her." He grins and continues, "They spend an awful lot of time together, and it would be pretty unbelievable if nothing sparked between them."

Hermione rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Ron's reasoning. Or his storytelling. Or both. He can't really tell. All he deduced is that Hermione doesn't like the idea of Cara Smith and an office romance.

"If Harry was even the tiniest bit interested in this Cara Smith woman, I would've heard of her. Believe me."

Ron nods. "I do. Harry shares way too much with you."

"Oh, well, I suppose I just won't tell you anymore what he tells me, then."

"Now, let's not be hasty," Ron says quickly, and Hermione smirks in response.

"Alright, well, Cara Smith seems the most reasonable guess so far," she says, crinkling her nose in dislike. "What about George; what does he think?"

Ron swirls the last few drops of coffee at the very bottom of his mug as he mulls over how to answer the question. George had joked around the entire evening about who he thought it was—as he should have, considering it was meant to be a game—but towards the end, when it was time to finalise the bets, he got serious and dropped a bomb that nobody was expecting.

"He doesn't think it's a woman," Ron finally says.

Hermione gasps rather dramatically, her eyes going comically wide and her jaw dropping to the floor. "He thinks it's a man?"

"As opposed to a centaur? Yes," Ron says, making Hermione snort and pull a face at him. He laughs. "Yes, a man—a real, human male. Do you need me to describe what one looks like to you, or…?"

"Wow, that's some cheek you've got this morning. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?" she says as she pours him more coffee and threatens to splash the scalding-hot liquid on him.

"That's really not how that expression's used, 'Mione," Ron says, deciding to have his fun while it lasts and laughing at the look on her face. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Just having a bit of fun."

"Yes, you've had quite enough fun at my expense for today, thank you very much. Now, pray tell why in the world George thinks it's a man."

Ron takes a long swig of his coffee and sighs in contentment before answering. "I'm actually surprised you don't think so as well. I remember you being in quite the tizzy when Harry first recounted his drunken sexcapade with a man."

Hermione snorts. "When did I say I don't think so? I'm just surprised that George, of all people, thinks the same."

"Apparently he ran into Harry at the Red Lion last week, and Harry told George he was on a date, but as George was leaving, he saw Harry in an intimate snog with a man."

Hermione was leaning so close while listening to Ron speak that she's practically draped across the table. "Did he see who it was?" she asks with bated breath.

Ron shakes his head. "No, he didn't, but he's fairly certain the man's blond."

"Huh."

Ron can see the gears churning in Hermione's mind as she thinks of all the blond men Harry knows or has spoken about. "You know, 'Mione," Ron says after watching her ponder over it for a good minute, and then some. "Maybe we should just respect Harry's privacy and wait until he's ready to tell us."

Hermione eyes him for a moment before rolling her eyes. "I have no time for sentimental tosh. Whom do I have to speak with about placing a bet?"

Ron laughs and shakes his head. "God, I love you."

"So, when're you gonna introduce us to your mystery man?" Hermione asks one fine evening, at dinner with Harry.

Harry freezes mid-bite and slowly looks up first at Hermione, and then turns to fix wide eyes on Ron. Ron shrugs, not wanting to get in the middle of what would undoubtedly turn into an argument between his best friend and girlfriend.

"How," Harry begins slowly as he refocuses his gaze on Hermione, "how did you know I was seeing a man?"

"Pssh," Hermione exclaims. "The only thing you've succeeded in hiding is his identity, Harry, nothing else. Everybody knows, so you may as well just tell us now."

"Everybody?" he asks, coughing and going red in the face. "Wait, what do you mean by everybody? And why are you guys sitting around discussing my love life?"

"I'm the one asking the questions, Mister," Hermione says, pointing a finger at him.

Harry rolls his eyes. "'Mione, I know you're worried and all, but can't you respect the fact that I'll tell you when I'm ready?"

Hermione's shoulders slump. "So, it's really a man that you're seeing?"

"Didn't you just say everybody knew?"

"Harry, we don't care whether you're dating a man or a woman," Hermione says, ignoring his question. "If that's why you're hesitating, you really don't have to. We," she motions between herself and Ron, "are the last people on earth to judge you for whomever you choose to date.

Harry snorts. "Oh, please. This, after every time you've judged anyone I've ever introduced to you, including Ginny?"

"Only because I was worried! And I always ended up being right in my concerns, you know."

"Congratulations for anticipating that every single relationship of mine would inevitably come to an end thanks to my inability to sustain a committed, long-term relationship. It's a miracle you and I are still friends."

Hermione clamps her mouth shut, clearly hurt by Harry's words, and he sighs. "Look, I'm sorry. I know you won't judge me for being with a man. But that's not the issue."

Hermione sits back, concern etched into her features. "Harry, who is it that you're with that you're so afraid to tell even your best friends about? And have you thought about why you're worried we'd judge you for being with this person?"

"Oh, believe me, I know exactly why," he scoffs.

Hermione looks to Ron for support, and he's alarmed to see tears forming in her eyes. He hadn't realised it bothered Hermione so deeply that Harry didn't feel comfortable revealing whom he was dating to her. Ron turns to Harry.

"Look, mate, we're sorry for putting you on the spot like this. But we're just worried that you're so vehemently hiding the identity of this person because they're dangerous or chronically ill, or something else that you know is going to end up hurting you and you don't want to concern us for that very reason."

Harry laughs drily. "It's none of those reasons, believe me."

"Then what is it?" Ron asks gently.

Hermione sniffs just then and quickly wipes away her tears, apologising, and Harry sighs, looking conflicted. He struggles for a few seconds and then says, "It's just that—I think you'll judge him for the person he used to be and the things that he used to do and not see him for the person that he is now."

"What, are you dating a former Death Eater or something?" Hermione says, and Ron knows she meant it as a joke, but the way Harry stiffens and pales shows that she hit the nail on the head without meaning to. "Oh my goodness, Harry! Who is it? You can't not tell us after this!"

The back-and-forth continues, and Ron sits quietly again, for a sudden realisation has come to him. A blond man who was formerly a Death Eater that they would judge for who he used to be and the things he did?

"Is it Malfoy?" he blurts out before he can stop himself.

Hermione and Harry pause in their bickering to turn to look at him. Hermione gasps, a hand flying to her mouth. "It is, isn't it? Why didn't I think of it! A blond Death Eater? Of course!"

Harry sighs and pushes his chair backwards. His jaw set, the anger shining in his eyes, he looks between his two best friends. "Great job, you guessed it right! Ding, ding, ding, ten points for getting the correct answer!"

"Harry—"

"No, I've had quite enough, Hermione," he says, holding up a hand and rising to his feet. "Thank you for dinner." He nods at Ron. "I'll see you Monday."

The couple watches their best friend storm out of the room. After a lengthy silence, the pop of Apparition is heard. Ron sighs, and Hermione bursts into tears.

Alarmed by his girlfriend's distress, Ron goes around to pull her into his arms and whisper soothing words as she sobs into his chest. He feels a lump form in his throat and exhales shakily. He can't decide what's worse: the fact that Harry was so afraid of their disapproval that he had to hide the fact that he was dating Malfoy, or the fact that he may have been right in his fears of them immediately disapproving instead of giving Harry a chance to explain.

"But it's Malfoy!" Hermione sobs, and Ron understands. Harry may be so good a person that he could not only forgive Malfoy for everything but also be romantically involved with him, but it was too much for Ron, and seemed like it was too much for Hermione as well. At least, just then.

"But it's Malfoy," Ron agrees.

Ron watches Hermione pace up and down the length of their bedroom, wringing her hands together as she always does when she's anxious. "Do you think he'll come?" she asks for the third time.

"'Mione, it's Harry," Ron says, reaching out to grab a hold of her and pull her towards him. He wraps his arms around her waist and smiles up at her. "He'll come."

Hermione looks down at him and nods, but he sees the uncertainty and fear in her eyes. He pulls her onto his lap and holds her close. She cuddles up against him and rests her head in the crook of his neck, sniffling softly.

"He'll come, Hermione. I promise."

"But he's been ignoring us for two weeks. You said we should give him space, so we did, but what if we've lost our best friend?"

Her voice breaks, and Ron hushes her gently. "Don't be silly, love. We've fought a war together. There's no way a man is going to come between us."

That makes her laugh, and she looks up to meet his eyes. "You know what upsets me the most?"

He smiles and says softly, "I know."

She continues to look into his eyes and then nods. She knows he knows. And then she laughs sardonically and looks away.

"I know what you're thinking," she says. "I know you think I'm worrying over nothing and that Harry is bound to get over it sooner than later. I know you're thinking that if Harry, who had to face Mal—Draco's wrath the most back then, can forgive and forget, then who are we to hold onto petty resentment and give him a hard time about it? I know your thoughts without you having to say them."

He presses a kiss to her hair. "You give me too much credit."

"Hardly. You are wise and intelligent, Ron. Not to mention considerate and patient and kind." She pulls away from him, sticks her nose in the air, and says in a joking tone, "You think I would've stayed with you this long otherwise?"

Ron laughs. "That's true." He reaches up to tuck her hair behind the ear. "But, you know, I wasn't always wise or considerate or patient. I used to be arrogant and prideful and insensitive. But, with time, reflection, and effort, I matured and changed." He takes her hand in his and presses a kiss to her palm. "But most of all, Hermione, you let me prove to you that I've changed. You gave me not one, not two, but dozens of chances. And you continued to believe in me and patiently wait when many others may not have." He smiles at her, feeling emotional. "I changed, but not purely of my own merit."

"I love you," she gasps, her eyes glittering with tears. She leans down to press a kiss on his lips. He pulls her closer to him and deepens the kiss.

When she pulls away, he whispers, "I love you more."

She caresses his cheek and smiles. "You're right. People can change. And we should give them the chance to prove it to us."

"Besides," Ron says in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Harry'll just hex Malfoy's arse to next may if he gets too cocky."

Hermione laughs, and Ron is glad that she seems less anxious. Just then, there are three sharp raps on the window, and a tawny owl flies in with a letter in its beak.

"That's Harry's owl," Hermione says, concern clouding her features once again.

Ron takes the letter from the owl and rips it open quickly. "What does it say?" Hermione asks, too afraid to look.

"Dear Ron and Hermione," Ron reads, "I apologise for the sudden change of plans, but would you be willing to come down to the Red Lion?" He pauses before he reads the next line. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Ron exchanges a look of surprise with Hermione, and she snatches the letter from him to finish reading it. "I'm sorry that I haven't been in touch for a fortnight, but I've received all of your letters, and I feel badly about how I've behaved. I'm ready for you to meet him, if you are. Much love, Harry."

She looks at Ron, wide-eyed. "I don't know if I'm ready," she whispers.

He swallows and nods. "Me either."

Hermione inhales deeply and exhales. She purses her lips in determination. "We may never be ready, so we may as well do it now."

"If that's your decision, then you know I'll stand by it."

She smiles and nods. "Alright. Let's go."

Epilogue: a few months later…

"So did anyone win that bet at all?" Harry asks as they sit in a corner of their favourite pub, enjoying the quiet before it starts to get crowded.

Hermione looks smug, flips her hair over her shoulder, and announces, "I need the ladies room. Be right back!"

Harry turns to Ron questioningly. "Well?"

Ron nods towards Hermione's retreating figure as he sips on his beer. "She did."

"What," Harry exclaims. "How? Did she know all along?"

"Oh, don't be silly, Harry," Hermione says, arriving back at the table. "Have you seen my purse?"

"Here." Ron hands her a small, black bag.

"Thanks, darling." She winks at Harry. "Be back in a minute."

"Seriously, mate, what?" Harry asks Ron again.

Ron swirls his mug and watches the golden whirlpool that forms in the beer. "Hers was the closest guess."

"You gonna tell me what she bet, or am I gonna have to keep asking?"

Ron looks at Harry. "She bet that it was someone from our past that needed another chance to start over. Like you did."

Harry sits back and stares at the table for a long moment. "Wow."

"Yeah."

Hermione comes back a few minutes later, happy as can be, and sits down with a flourish. "So, what have I missed?"

"Nothing," Harry says and raises his mug. With a smile, he says, "Here's to you, Hermione."

"To Hermione," Ron echoes, raising his own mug.

Hermione beams. She lifts her own mug and clinks it with theirs. "Here's to us."