The Bet
by She's a Star
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling; therefore, I'm not making any money off of this. Though I must admit, I wouldn't complain if I were to . . .
Author's Note: I always thought that Ron's reaction to Harry saying he and Cho kissed was a bit odd, and suspected that maybe Ron and Hermione had a bit of a bet going on. Then they started discussing this possibility on the Sugar Quill, so I got inspired and decided to write a fic about it. So . . . this would be the fic. *nods* The ending's quite weak, but I rather wanted to end it, so . . . I did. And with what is (in my opinion) one of the best lines in the history of Harry Potter, no less. J
This is for Crys and her people, who saw to it that I made it to Seattle without meeting my untimely demise in a plane crash.
Kudos to you all.
*
"Where do you think he is?"
Hermione sighed impatiently and inspected her watch. Ron took advantage of the opportunity and couldn't resist a smug smile as his knight yanked her queen from the board.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "That wasn't fair."
"Sure it was," Ron returned, grinning. "S'not my fault you weren't paying attention, is it?"
Hermione fixed him with one last glare and muttered something that sounded like 'honestly' under her breath before eyeing the portrait hole. "Really. It's been twenty minutes since the meeting ended. What on earth could he be doing?"
Ron frowned. "Why are you so stuck on this, anyway?"
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked at once, a little too aloof to be convincing. "I'm not stuck on anything."
"Oh, right," Ron said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he studied her. He didn't like her acting like this – usually she wasn't so fixated on Harry, and he preferred it that way. "You're not at all obsessed with where Harry is."
"No, I'm not," said Hermione stiffly. "I'd just like to know where he is, that's all."
Ron felt a very unpleasant sinking sensation in his stomach. This was too strange; she had never acted like this before. Surely she didn't . . . surely she wouldn't . . . fancy Harry?
"Well, I'll give you an idea," Ron said, more fiercely than he'd have liked, "Who was ogling him all through the meeting? Who lingered back while the rest of us left? Who has Harry fancied for ages? Who is he probably snogging senseless right now?"
"I don't think Harry would do that," Hermione said at once.
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, suddenly dead determined to convince her that Harry was, in fact, kissing Cho Chang as they spoke. "Of course he would. He fancies her, doesn't he?"
"But . . ."
Hermione sighed, very morosely.
Quite livid with anger, Ron demanded, "Well, why are you so miserable about it, anyway? Is it any of your business who Harry fancies? What, are you jealous?"
As soon as he said it, he felt utterly ridiculous. The rather incredulous (and thoroughly amused) expression on Hermione's face confirmed right away that his suspicions had been incorrect.
"Oh, don't be stupid!" she ordered, reaching over the chessboard and swatting his arm before making a move. "Harry and I? Don't tell me that you've fallen for all those stupid Rita Skeeter articles."
"Of course not," Ron said irritably, feeling his ears go red. "But . . . I mean, what was I supposed to think, when you're acting like that?"
"I'm just . . ." Hermione sighed again and lowered her voice, leaning closer to him. "I'm worried about Cho."
"About Cho?" Ron repeated, and Hermione glared and hushed him. "Why?"
"Because," Hermione replied, a hint of exasperation in her tone, and Ron was aware that she felt she was being forced to explain the most obvious thing in the world. "Cho still misses Cedric, and she's certainly far from getting over his death. It's obvious. And I just don't think that she should be rushed into a relationship with anyone, even if she does like them, because it's clear that it will end badly."
"Gee, you're optimistic," Ron deadpanned.
"It's true!" Hermione said, rather huffily. "I know these things! I am a girl, you know." She paused and scowled at him. "Or have you forgotten again?"
"No," Ron replied truthfully.
No, he certainly hadn't forgotten that she was a girl. On the contrary, he was very, very aware that she was a girl. As a matter of fact, he was aware of lots of things about her that he'd never noticed before – how her hair smelled all nice and flowery, how her eyes had tiny bits of gold in them, how she had this special expression that she got only when she looked at him. (Granted, usually she was angry with him when she did this, but that was just a minor detail, really.)
"Well," Hermione said, her voice putting an end to his reverie, "I just hope he doesn't get into anything with Cho. Everything's already so hard for him – he shouldn't have to put up with a doomed relationship as well."
"Hermione," Ron said matter-of-factly, "As a guy – you do know I am one, right?"
She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled to himself.
"Anyway," he continued, "As a guy, I know some things too. And one of them is that he's not going to go over all the logical aspects of a potential relationship if he's alone with Cho and she's making kissy faces at him. He's going to snog her."
"I don't think so," Hermione said, frowning. "You don't really think that, do you? Because I don't. I don't think that Harry would do that. He's too smart to do that."
Ron snorted. "Right. Have you gotten a good look at Cho lately?"
"Yes," Hermione said shortly. "Her eyes are always red."
"Believe me, Hermione," Ron said, snickering, "He's not going to be looking at her eyes."
Hermione glared at him. "You're such a--"
"Guy," Ron finished.
"Prat, actually," she said coldly. "But 'guy' works, too, I suppose."
Silence lingered for a moment, cut off by Hermione, who was now sounding anxious rather than annoyed.
"Really, though, not all guys are like that, are they?"
Ron paused, as though seriously considering the question. "Um . . . er . . . uh . . . um . . . yes, actually, I'd have to say we are."
"Harry isn't!" Hermione said defensively. "He wouldn't get involved with Cho! Not when he saw Cedric killed last year!"
"He would," Ron said, feeling rather guilty and not knowing quite why (though he suspected the downcast expression on Hermione's face had something to do with it). "I bet you he's kissed her by now."
"He has not!" Hermione countered angrily.
"He has," Ron confirmed gravely. "Sorry to break it to you, Hermione, but he is my best friend. I know these things."
"He's my best friend, too!" Hermione snapped. "And I know him just as well as you do, Ron Weasley!"
Feeling almost regretful, he shook his head. "Listen, Hermione, I am sorry, but I know the guy stuff. It's not anything against you, of course. It's just. . . well, you're a girl."
"I'm so happy that you've embraced that fact," she snarled.
"Yes, well," he shrugged and grinned at her. "I do it for you, y'know."
Hermione, however, didn't seem at all pleased by this statement. Rather, her eyes were nearly shooting sparks as she announced huffily, "I bet you five Galleons that Harry and Cho haven't kissed."
"Excellent!" Ron said brightly. "I could use five Galleons! Thanks, Hermione!"
"Well, so could I," Hermione said sharply. "Ron, I'll thank you in advance for the new copy of Numerology and Grammatica – my old one is getting rather scruffy."
"Well, I'm not sure you're going to be able to afford it; you will be five Galleons short, after all," Ron replied with an innocent smile before promptly checkmating her king.
Hermione glared at him and rose swiftly from the board, rummaging through her bag and retrieving a half-full piece of parchment.
Fine, Ron thought bitterly, If you're going to be that way.
He cleared the chessboard, then reached for his Transfiguration essay and sunk down onto the rug in front of the fire. It was pretty clear that he wouldn't be getting any help from Hermione now.
Hmph.
He'd felt pretty bad – almost guilty, really – before, about the bet. Hermione really was clueless enough to think that Harry wouldn't kiss Cho. But now . . . oh, now he was feeling pretty damn worthy of those five Galleons.
Sooner or later, the woman was going to drive him insane.
He stared angrily down at his essay, listening to the sound of Hermione's quill rapidly scratching against her parchment.
Oh, forget this. He couldn't concentrate.
"What're you writing?" Ron asked.
"A letter," Hermione replied, a bit stiffly.
"Oh."
Silence fell again.
He sighed and resumed his staring match with the Transfiguration essay.
"Does it bug you?"
This time, it was Hermione to attempt at conversation.
"What?" he asked, glad for a distraction from homework.
"The idea of Harry kissing someone before you do," Hermione said, then added hastily, "Not that he's going to kiss someone, of course."
"Oh, accept it Hermione," Ron said, grinning, "You're going to lose. And besides," he threw in defensively, "what makes you think I haven't ever kissed anyone?"
Hermione went rather red, but she didn't look away. "Well, have you?" she asked in a no-nonsense sort of way.
"None of your business," he returned shortly, deciding it sounded slightly less pathetic than 'no'.
Hermione eyed him skeptically.
"Well, what about you, then?" he asked. "I suppose you and Vicky had a nice snogging fest in the bushes last year."
"Oh, come off it," instructed Hermione, irritated. "And for the record, nothing of the sort happened."
Ron felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and before he could stop himself he was exclaiming rather triumphantly, "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't let that slimeball touch you!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but he could see a smile toying around the corners of her mouth.
"So you haven't . . . you know, kissed anyone, then?" he asked, feeling significantly relieved that he no longer had an incontrovertible reason to kill the world's most prized Seeker.
Hermione shook her head: she seemed to be handling the situation with utmost poise, though he noted that she was staring very determinedly at her letter.
"Yeah, me either," he admitted, feeling relieved.
"I didn't think so," Hermione said briskly.
"What?!" he asked, offended. "You mean you don't think that anyone would want to kiss me? Because you know, someone out there does right now, I bet!"
"Of course," Hermione said sweetly, then added in a very audible mumble, "Luna Lovegood, maybe."
Ron glared at her. "Not just Luna Lovegood, I'll have you know. There are tons of girls out there dying to kiss me." Hermione snorted. "I'm just . . . waiting for the right one, y'know."
"Yes," Hermione agreed, nodding. "And Malfoy's a very nice person, really. Just horribly misunderstood."
"Fine," Ron said shortly. "If that's the way you feel about it."
They lapsed into about five seconds of silence before Hermione asked, "Ron?"
"What?"
"Did you mean that?" She sounded almost timid. "About waiting for the right girl to kiss?"
He felt his ears reddening again, and knew that his cheeks would join them shortly.
"Yeah," he responded gruffly. "Guess so."
Hermione smiled. "That's really sweet of you."
All right. It was official. He'd gone redder than his Quidditch robes.
"I . . . well, you know . . . uh . . . thanks," he replied smoothly, and opted not to mention that he felt pretty damn positive that he knew who the right girl was. Instead, he watched her for a moment as she smiled at him, then bent back over her letter. Her eyes were alight with the reflection of the dancing flames, and an unruly lock of hair was sneaking out of the knot she'd pulled it into at the base of her neck.
She really was beautiful.
Grinning to himself, he turned back to his Transfiguration homework.
A comfortable silence surfaced for the next few minutes while they wrote, but was rudely interrupted when Harry climbed through the portrait hole.
Oh, this was it.
Ron exchanged a quick glance with Hermione, and she arched an eyebrow at him before returning to her letter.
All right, then. It seemed that he was going to have to take charge.
"What kept you?" he asked casually, abandoning his homework as Harry sat down next to Hermione.
Harry remained silent, but Ron noted with triumph that he'd turned very red.
Nice, really, five Galleons, courtesy of Hermione. What could he buy?
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked.
Poor girl. She was going to lose spectacularly. Sad, really, that she had even the slightest bit of hope left.
Harry shrugged.
"What's up?" Ron propped himself up on his elbows and stared at his best friend, who seemed to think he was hiding it rather well. Oh, the poor guy. "What's happened?"
Yet more silence from Harry.
Hermione seemed to grow tired of the suspense and asked, quite briskly, "Is it Cho? Did she corner you after the meeting?"
Corner him . . . well, that's one way of putting it, Ron thought, snickering. Hermione fixed him with a quick glare, and he forced himself to go silent. Fine, if she wanted him to play dumb . . .
"So – er," he said, trying to sound as clueless as possible, "What did she want?"
Dear God, this was painful. Didn't Hermione get it? Clearly Harry was in agony. (Though it surely wouldn't last long; he had kissing Cho to remember, after all.) It would be easiest to just assume the inevitable and get it over with before the poor girl was too humiliated.
"She," Harry croaked. Ron willed himself not to laugh as Harry cleared his throat and made another valiant attempt. "She – er –"
"Did you kiss?"
Hermione's voice seemed to slice through the air like a knife, ringing through the common room. Taken by surprise, Ron sat up immediately, and he vaguely noticed that his ink bottle had gone flying across the common room.
All right, then . . . this was the moment of truth . . .
He fixed his gaze intently on Harry.
"Well?"
Harry stared back at him, then glanced at Hermione, and –
Nodded.
"HA!" Ron cried triumphantly, sending a quick glance at Hermione before proceeding to slam his fist into the air. Hermione looked rather furious, but smothered her anger quickly.
Ah well. One couldn't win 'em all.
He continued to laugh victoriously a bit, just for good measure. Oh, Hermione. She was so clueless. And he – Ron let out another particularly triumphant laugh as he rolled around on the rug – he was five Galleons richer.
Harry was grinning at him from his armchair, though he still looked rather embarrassed. Hermione, on the other hand, was eyeing him as though he were the scum of the earth and should be put to death immediately.
Sore loser, really.
He looked back at Harry and realized that his best friend had, in fact, been kissed. A bit of a discussion now seemed in order. Besides, it would probably manage to annoy Hermione more, and he hadn't really bugged her properly in ages.
"Well? How was it?" he asked Harry.
Harry paused for a moment; Ron snuck another glance at Hermione and noticed that she looked rather interested in his upcoming reply.
"Wet."
Caught thoroughly off-guard, Ron found himself attempting to laugh and groan at the same time. The result was a rather odd noise that caused Hermione to roll her eyes yet again.
Clearly, she wasn't appreciating the sheer entertainment value of this conversation.
"Because she was crying," Harry explained, looking rather perturbed by this.
"Oh," Ron said abruptly, feeling slightly less joyous. Cho had been crying through Harry's first kiss? That had to be hard to live down. "Are you that bad at kissing?"
"Dunno," Harry replied, and looked even more nervous. (Whoops. Perhaps he shouldn't have said that.) "Maybe I am."
"Of course you're not," Hermione consoled at once, not bothering to look up from the letter.
For a split-second, his brain seemed to repel the comment, but once it registered, he felt as though someone had slapped him hard across the face. So Hermione knew how Harry kissed, did she? And she'd told him that she'd never kissed anyone before! He never would have told her he hadn't if she hadn't told him first! So she'd lied! Who knew how long she and Harry had been sneaking off to snog?
Struggling to sound composed, Ron asked, "How do you know?"
. . . All right. The attempt at composure hadn't worked. His concern about the matter was slightly obvious.
Or, well, painfully so, more like.
Hermione, thankfully, didn't seem to notice. "Because Cho spends half her time crying these days. She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place."
Okay. (He resisted the urge to sigh in relief.) Never mind, then.
"You'd think a bit of kissing would cheer her up," Ron stated with a grin, feeling far more cheerful now. He'd won the bet, Harry and Hermione weren't secretly in love with each other, and everything was fine.
Hermione didn't look at him as she replied, in a very regal sort of tone.
"Ron, you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet."
Well . . . almost fine, anyway.
End