Chapter 3: (Well-Spotted) Hermione's a Girl!

My thoughts of Viktor and our budding friendship kept my spirits high for the rest of the morning, and I was able to be diligent at both taking notes in my classes and helping Harry strategize for the second trial. This comforting euphoria might have continued indefinitely if Neville hadn't approached me with an invitation to the Yule Ball.

What could I do? I had already agreed to go to the dance with Viktor, and it seemed illogical to break a date with one friend just to go on a different date with another friend. However, while I could successfully rationalize away the guilt caused by my gentle refusal of Neville, I found it hard to prevent my stomach from twisting with anxiety. After a moment of silent contemplation I sighed, forcing myself to admit that had Ron been the friend posing the question that I would have been facing a true moral dilemma. Although, this was before I was given the confirmation of a fear I had harbored for some time: Ron had yet to even notice that I was a girl!

That's right. To Ron Weasley, prat extraordinaire, I was just plain Hermione Jane Granger—the sexless bookworm who was only good for her class notes or proofreading skills.

Looking back, I realize that I didn't take it well. I was livid! Not only did he seem to think that I was androgynous, but he thought I was ugly, too! As if I couldn't get an escort if I wanted!

"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," I answered nervously, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, "because I'm already going with someone."

"No, you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

It's obvious to me that years of cramming chocolate frogs down his gullet had obviously stunted Ron's mental development. Well, that's not fair, but he made me so angry that night. I thought I would burst with despair, but instead I let my anger hone my thoughts to a sharp point.

"Oh did I?" I said, the color in my cheeks shifting from an indignant blush to a furious flush. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl."

He was such an obnoxious git! I could tell that he didn't believe me—why didn't he believe me? Why would I lie? He made me want to rip my own hair out at the roots in frustration. Why did I even like this spoiled, chauvinistic, bully of a BOY?

I stormed up to my room then and, when I finally reached my bed, tossed my satchel carelessly across my trunk before watching it fall to the floor with a dull thud. Flinging back the hanging curtains, I forcibly threw myself, facedown, onto the bed and buried my face in the softly yielding mattress. Opening my mouth wide, I screamed and pummeled the mattress with my fists. I must have made quite a sight with my legs and arms flailing about in a tantrum as if I were five instead of nearly fifteen. After a few moments of frenetic movement, I raised my head and looked over the edge of the bed at my satchel.

It lay open on its side, spewing its contents—and, ironically, my S.P.E.W. paraphernalia—across the floor. Grumbling, I pushed myself off of the bed and came around to stand before the small mess. Crouching slowly, I began to pick up the fallen badges gingerly and replaced them in their case, my anger simmering slowly into mild frustration before finally plummeting into despair. I felt my lower lip begin to betray me with a slight wobble and captured it, hard, between my teeth. Letting myself fall back from crouching into a seated position beside the bed, I let my face fall forward into my open palms and shuddered uncontrollably. I nearly jumped clear out of my skin when I felt a hand descend onto my shoulder.

Startled, I turned my head sharply to watch the owner of the offending hand, none other than Ginny Weasley herself, sit down beside me. With an apologetic smile, she leaned forward and picked up the final remnants of my satchel mess before handing them to me a few moments later.

"Thanks," I whispered, my voice sounding thick with unshed tears.

Ginny shrugged slightly and looked away. We sat there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, and mutually sighed. Catching each others' gaze, the tension lightened as we shared an unexpected laugh.

Exhaling slowly through pursed lips, Ginny flicked tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes before reaching into a pocket hidden in the sleeve of her robe.

"You were missed at dinner," she replied, handing me a folded bit of parchment.

Furrowing my brow in confusion, I took the note, but not before replying, "I ate before you did, Ginny. Remember? When the Daft Duo took it upon themselves to ask the Ravenclaw seeker and a Beauxbaton Veela to the Yule Ball?"

She answered me with a smirk and shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say, Hermione? Obviously you were in too much of a hurry to make the Daft Duo the Troubled Trio to notice that a certain Durmstrang seeker had to stay late for Double-Potions."

Realization dawned on me as I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach.

"Viktor?" I gasped.

"One and the same," Ginny replied gleefully. "He caught me as I was leaving the Great Hall. Nice chap, really. A bit broody, but I think I like him."

I smiled slowly, allowing her to continue teasing me as I opened the note.

Hermione,

I was sorry to miss you this night. I hoped to talk more with you. Could we meet to walk and talk? If this pleases, I will be at the lake for the next hour and would much enjoy your company.

I will be seeing you at the library—

Viktor

Ginny must have read the indecision on my face because she stopped her gentle teasing to ask me what was wrong.

"Nothing," I replied. "It's just . . . ."

I racked my brain for the right words or phrases to explain what I was feeling. As the silence stretched, I could see the impatience growing on Ginny's face and she began gesturing forcefully with her hands.

"Yes. . .AND?" She prompted.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I continued. "AND—Viktor has asked me to meet him for a walk by the lake."

Ginny's eyes seemed to grow larger than her ear-splitting grin and she laughed out loud. Giving me a playful shove, she asked, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Shaking my head with a smile, I said, "It's not like that, Ginny. Viktor and I are just good friends."

Ginny shot a sly glance at me from the corner of her eye. "Of course you are . . . for NOW. But after this walk, who knows what might develop?"

"You're ridiculous," I rejoined with a smile. Checking the time, I stood up slowly before carefully placing my satchel on the top of my trunk. I was halfway to the door before I caught myself. Turning with the doorknob in my hand, I glanced over my shoulder and asked, "Would you like to come too, Ginny?"

I watched as her eyebrows shot up sharply. "Oh! No thanks, Hermione. Actually, I'm supposed to be discussing Yule Ball details with Neville right now."

"Well, maybe next time, then." I replied, opening the door.

"Oh, so there's going to be a next time, hmm?" She teased, meeting me at the door with a smirk. "You sound pretty confident about your good friend."

"Oh, sod off, Ginny!" I cried with a laugh.

Grinning secretively, we made our way downstairs without further preamble. We parted ways at the common room fireplace as Ginny moved to sit beside Neville on the western-facing couch and I moved onward through the portrait hole.

I was eager to see what Viktor had to share. Never before had he asked me to meet him outside of our designated library appointments. I couldn't help thinking that this invitation boded more than just a simple walk around the lake. Viktor obviously wanted to talk about something important, and I was eager to turn my mind to anything that could distract me from my slowly twisting heart.

Damn you, Ronald Weasley, I thought to myself as I exited through the front doors of the school.

Turning towards the lake, there was still enough light to make out Viktor's slumped form as he leaned against the base of a tree, idly plucking at certain blades of grass. I rushed forward, plastering a happy smile on my face. Viktor looked miserable enough for the both of us, and I was determined to cheer him up.

"Hello," I called cheerfully, padding carefully down the hill to his side.

Viktor's head snapped up in my direction, and his welcoming smile eased the frayed nerves that the earlier row with Ron had created. Seating myself carefully on the earth beside him, I couldn't help but beam at my wonderful new friend.

"You came." He said needlessly, brushing stray blades of grass from his lap and the book that rested on the ground beside him.

Picking it up, I read the title and quirked a teasing eyebrow at him.

"Leaves of Grass, Viktor? How ironic."

In the dusk I couldn't see whether or not I had inspired a blush, but his wry smirk let me know that he had understood my joke. Bumping his shoulder with my own, I continued, "So, are we going on this walk or not?"

Nodding in agreement, Viktor rose smoothly to his feet and offered me his hand. Grasping it, I pulled myself up, self-consciously shaking out the folds of my school robes. Handing the book back to him, I pointed to the farside of the lake where the Durmstrang ship was harbored.

"Shall we walk as far as your ship?" I asked, estimating a fifteen to twenty minute stroll.

"Yes," he replied, nodding slowly. "That vill be good."

We started our trek around the lake, pausing occasionally to skip a pebble across the softly rippling surface. After a few moments of companionable silence, I found my mind drifting back to the quarrel in the common room.

Why did Ron have to be so mean to me? I knew that he didn't mean to be rude, but his insensitivity had chafed me raw. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as my eyes began to burn with unshed tears. Looking away from the lake, I crossed my arms across my chest and hugged myself. I bit my lip as my chin began wobbling ominously and I tried to swallow the sob that I felt welling up in my throat. I didn't quite accomplish it, and I felt Viktor turning to look at me.

I tried to pretend that I was looking back at the school and began tapping my foot. Sniffing loudly, I turned when I felt his hand gently encircle my arm and offered him a watery smile.

"Th-The school's really lovely at dusk, isn't it?" I croaked, sniffling slightly. "It always makes me a bit e-e-emotional." My voice cracked and strained to force the words past my lips, but the sound was still choked by unshed tears and Viktor wasn't fooled.

"Vot happened? Is it about the Yule Ball?"

It started then, a deluge of tears that soaked my cheeks and the front of my robes. Covering my face with both hands, my shoulders shook with the force of my chest-deep sobs. Choking on deep breaths of air as I tried to calm myself, my knees began to shake beneath my robes and I turned my miserable expression towards Viktor's concerned face.

As he stepped closer to me, his features were blurred by the faint light and my watery eyes. Slowly, he grasped my upper arms with gentle hands, leaning down to peer in my face. Running his hands up and down my arms to comfort me, Viktor prodded gently with his questions.

"You no longer vish to go, is that it?" He asked quietly. "Your No Von haf finally asked you?"

My sobs came harder at the mention of Ron, and I found myself crumpling against Viktor's chest. He seemed so safe, so big and sturdy. As his arms closed around me, I clung to his bicep, burying my face there. He wasn't stiff, like Ron had been the year before when I had waxed hysterical about Buckbeak. He didn't pat me on the head or act awkward with me, and I leaned into his strength. Viktor held me easily, rubbing my back firmly as he shushed my fears.

"It is good. You can go—that vos our pact, remember?"

"N-n-no, Viktor. That's not it. That's not it at all. I wish it were, but . . . but . . . oh!"

I felt like two people at one time. In my head, there was the inconsolable Hermione—a girl who wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball on the ground and disappear, or, worse yet, to get chucked into the middle of the lake and become the Giant Squid's new plaything—and beside her was my logical half, which cringed as it heard my pathetically broken sobs. Fighting to catch my breath, I pushed away from Viktor and dropped to my knees on the ground. Kneeling beneath the wide expanse of starlit sky, I hugged my belly and took several deep breaths. Viktor followed suit, dropping to one knee beside me to knead my shoulders with firm hands, lending his strength as I finally managed to compose myself.

"Better?" He asked, once again rubbing my back. He reminded me so much of my father that I had to laugh, the watery gurgle sounding ridiculous to my ears.

"You really are an older brother, aren't you?" I asked, tilting my head to the side to look at him.

Raising his eyebrows a bit, he nodded, pulling me back until my head rested on his shoulder. "Oh, yes, little Penka. I am that."