How Hard Could It Be?

“Not another bloody dance!”

The rush of conversation after Dumbledore’s announcement masked Ron’s protest. Only Neville turned and looked at Gryffindor Keeper. Then he resumed his conversation with Ginny.

“Language, honestly, Ron,” Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, there’s a war going. It’s not exactly the best time to be having a social.”

“I think it’s the perfect time,” she replied primly.

Ron nudged Harry with his elbow. “Absolutely nutters, this one.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Professor Dumbledore is having this dance to get people’s minds off the war?”

Ron remembered that day’s Daily Prophet. Most of the stories were reports of sightings of the Dark Mark, attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns, and disappearances of witches and wizards. Some families had already pulled their children out of Hogwarts, believing that Harry made too tempting of a target for the Dark Lord. Things were getting darker and more dangerous every day.

‘Maybe Hermione has a point,’ he thought grudgingly.

“I guess that means we’ll have to find partners again,” Harry said.

Ron groaned, dropping his head to the table. His fringe barely missed his potatoes. “Oh, not again!”

“It’s just a dance, Ron,” Hermione stated.

He lifted his head from the table and glared at her. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re a girl.”

“And what does that have to do with anything!”

Harry suddenly became very interested in his dinner. Ron and Hermione hadn’t had a good row recently. Apparently they were overdue for one.

“Well, it’s not you have to go and ask someone to be your partner for the dance.”

“Oh, how hard can it be?” she scoffed.

“Fine, I’d like to see you try it.”

“Excuse me?”

‘Wingardium Leviosa,’ Harry thought, recalling an incidence from their first year Charms class.

“I said that I’d like to see you try,” Ron repeated slowly. “You know, ask someone to be your partner for the dance.”

“Fine, I will.” With a flounce of bushy hair, she turned and left the table.

“What?” Ron watched her leave with his jaw hanging open. With a painful snap, he closed it and turned to Harry. “What does she think she’s doing?”

Harry looked up from his plate and saw that Hermione was already at the Ravenclaw table. “I think she’s asking someone to be her partner for the dance.”

“But. . .how could she. . . doesn’t she know that I. . .” Ron sputtered.

“Guess not, mate,” Harry replied.

* * * * *

Hermione heard Ron’s “What?” but kept going. Honestly, how dense could one boy be? Didn’t she make herself clear fourth year after the Yule Ball?

He wanted to see her try? Fine, let him watch. She was tired of waiting for Ronald Weasley to grow up.

However, some of her anger and drive faded as she approached the Ravenclaw table. Her first thought was to ask one of the boys from her Ancient Runes class. He seemed nice enough, but now she was having second thoughts.

“Hermione, hi. How are you?” he greeted. He was clearly curious about her visit to their table as his housemates were.

“Good,” she made herself reply. “You?”

He grinned. “Can’t complain.”

“Listen, I just wanted to ask you. . .”

* * * * *

Ron knew he was staring. He knew that he should feign indifference, that he couldn’t care less about what Hermione was doing right then. He knew his plate was in front of him and he hadn’t touched it. That alone should have had Harry or Neville dragging him to the hospital wing.

However, he just watched as she marched straight to the Ravenclaw table. He almost wanted to laugh. Of course Hermione would want another brain to be her partner for the dance.

‘Must be hard to top having a Triwizard Champion as your last partner,’ he thought bitterly.

As he watched her talk to the other boy, he wished that he could redo the past two minutes. Honestly, sometimes he wished that he would think before he spoke to her. It would save them all a lot of grief.

‘Face it,’ he told himself. ‘You had your chance and you blew it.’

“I’ll see you later, Harry,” he said, rising from the table. He ignored calls from both Neville and Dean as he left the Great Hall.

* * * * *

Hermione paused when she heard Neville call Ron. She turned in time to see Ron leave the Great Hall. Though slink would be a better word for it.

“Um, Hermione, you wanted to ask me something?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replied absently, tearing her eyes from the doors. “I just wanted to know do you remember if our translation for Ancient Runes was still due next week.”

He gave her a strange look. “Yeah, it is. The professor said so in class today.”

“Thanks.” She said bye over her shoulder as she headed back to the Gryffindor table.

Harry watched her as she sat back down. “Guess it isn’t so hard.”

“No, it’s harder than it looks,” she conceded. “I couldn’t do it.”

“Maybe it was more than you just losing your nerve.”

She took a bite of her potatoes and frowned. “Pass the salt, please, Harry.”

With a smile, he did what she asked.

* * * * *

Ron watched as his fellow Gryffindors returned from dinner. Usually Hermione was one of the first back, eager to tackle homework that wasn’t due for at least another month. However, that wasn’t the case tonight.

“You’re being an idiot, you know.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Ginny,” he growled.

She grinned. “Who said anything about you talking? I’m just going to give you some friendly advice, big brother.”

“Go to bed, Gin.”

“If you had just gone ahead and asked Hermione to the dance, you wouldn’t be sulking in a corner of the common room.”

“I am not sulking!”

“Whatever,” she sighed. “Hey, Colin, have you finished your Potions essay yet?”

Harry eventually returned. They played a few games of chess. While Ron won each game, it wasn’t with his usual dominance.

“Merlin, where is she?” he fumed.

Harry shrugged. “My guess would be the library.”

“It’s going to be curfew soon.”

“I think she knows that, Ron.”

“Doubt it. Still probably talking to that stupid Ravenclaw boy.” He held up his hand, stopping Harry from speaking. “I know, I know. I’m being an idiot. Ginny’s already told me.”

“Smart girl, your sister.”

“What was that, Potter?”

“Never mind,” Harry said quickly. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

“Night, mate.”

After Harry left, he watched the fire. He was so lost in his thoughts he almost missed Hermione’s return. She flinched when she saw that he was waiting up for her, and it made him feel worse.

“Where ya been, Hermione?” He hoped he had kept his tone friendly and casual.

It clearly wasn’t the approach she had been expecting from him. “I’ve been on patrol. It’s been pretty quiet tonight.”

He groaned. He was supposed to have accompanied her. And with things like they were, he wouldn’t have put past Malfoy to try something on her. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I should have gone with you.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, it’s pretty quiet.”

“Hermione, I. . .”

“I’m tired,” she interjected. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Ron.”

“Good night, Hermione.” He watched as she headed to the stairs. “By the way, congrats on finding a partner.”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I didn’t ask him, Ron.”

“What?”

“He wasn’t the person I wanted to go with,” she said with a soft smile. “Guess I’ll have to wait for the right one to ask me. Night.”

She was gone up the stairs before he could gather his wits. She hadn’t asked the other boy. She wasn’t going with the boy from Ravenclaw. She still needed a partner.

He smiled as he headed up to his dorm. He still had a chance. And he was going to ask her tomorrow.

After all, how hard could it be?


How Hard Can It Be? “Not another bloody dance!” The rush of conversation after Dumbledore’s announcement masked Ron’s protest. Only Neville turned and looked at Gryffindor Keeper. Then he resumed his conversation with Ginny. “Language, honestly, Ron,” Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “Well, there’s a war going. It’s not exactly the best time to be having a social.” “I think it’s the perfect time,” she replied primly. Ron nudged Harry with his elbow. “Absolutely nutters, this one.” “Did it ever occur to you that maybe Professor Dumbledore is having this dance to get people’s minds off the war?” Ron remembered that day’s Daily Prophet. Most of the stories were reports of sightings of the Dark Mark, attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns, and disappearances of witches and wizards. Some families had already pulled their children out of Hogwarts, believing that Harry made too tempting of a target for the Dark Lord. Things were getting darker and more dangerous every day. ‘Maybe Hermione has a point,’ he thought grudgingly. “I guess that means we’ll have to find partners again,” Harry said. Ron groaned, dropping his head to the table. His fringe barely missed his potatoes. “Oh, not again!” “It’s just a dance, Ron,” Hermione stated. He lifted his head from the table and glared at her. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re a girl.” “And what does that have to do with anything!” Harry suddenly became very interested in his dinner. Ron and Hermione hadn’t had a good row recently. Apparently they were overdue for one. “Well, it’s not you have to go and ask someone to be your partner for the dance.” “Oh, how hard can it be?” she scoffed. “Fine, I’d like to see you try it.” “Excuse me?” ‘Wingardium Leviosa,’ Harry thought, recalling an incidence from their first year Charms class. “I said that I’d like to see you try,” Ron repeated slowly. “You know, ask someone to be your partner for the dance.” “Fine, I will.” With a flounce of bushy hair, she turned and left the table. “What?” Ron watched her leave with his jaw hanging open. With a painful snap, he closed it and turned to Harry. “What does she think she’s doing?” Harry looked up from his plate and saw that Hermione was already at the Ravenclaw table. “I think she’s asking someone to be her partner for the dance.” “But. . .how could she. . . doesn’t she know that I. . .” Ron sputtered. “Guess not, mate,” Harry replied. * * * * * Hermione heard Ron’s “What?” but kept going. Honestly, how dense could one boy be? Didn’t she make herself clear fourth year after the Yule Ball? He wanted to see her try? Fine, let him watch. She was tired of waiting for Ronald Weasley to grow up. However, some of her anger and drive faded as she approached the Ravenclaw table. Her first thought was to ask one of the boys from her Ancient Runes class. He seemed nice enough, but now she was having second thoughts. “Hermione, hi. How are you?” he greeted. He was clearly curious about her visit to their table as his housemates were. “Good,” she made herself reply. “You?” He grinned. “Can’t complain.” “Listen, I just wanted to ask you. . .” * * * * * Ron knew he was staring. He knew that he should feign indifference, that he couldn’t care less about what Hermione was doing right then. He knew his plate was in front of him and he hadn’t touched it. That alone should have had Harry or Neville dragging him to the hospital wing. However, he just watched as she marched straight to the Ravenclaw table. He almost wanted to laugh. Of course Hermione would want another brain to be her partner for the dance. ‘Must be hard to top having a Triwizard Champion as your last partner,’ he thought bitterly. As he watched her talk to the other boy, he wished that he could redo the past two minutes. Honestly, sometimes he wished that he would think before he spoke to her. It would save them all a lot of grief. ‘Face it,’ he told himself. ‘You had your chance and you blew it.’ “I’ll see you later, Harry,” he said, rising from the table. He ignored calls from both Neville and Dean as he left the Great Hall. * * * * * Hermione paused when she heard Neville call Ron. She turned in time to see Ron leave the Great Hall. Though slink would be a better word for it. “Um, Hermione, you wanted to ask me something?” “Oh, yeah,” she replied absently, tearing her eyes from the doors. “I just wanted to know do you remember if our translation for Ancient Runes was still due next week.” He gave her a strange look. “Yeah, it is. The professor said so in class today.” “Thanks.” She said bye over her shoulder as she headed back to the Gryffindor table. Harry watched her as she sat back down. “Guess it isn’t so hard.” “No, it’s harder than it looks,” she conceded. “I couldn’t do it.” “Maybe it was more than you just losing your nerve.” She took a bite of her potatoes and frowned. “Pass the salt, please, Harry.” With a smile, he did what she asked. * * * * * Ron watched as his fellow Gryffindors returned from dinner. Usually Hermione was one of the first back, eager to tackle homework that wasn’t due for at least another month. However, that wasn’t the case tonight. “You’re being an idiot, you know.” “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Ginny,” he growled. She grinned. “Who said anything about you talking? I’m just going to give you some friendly advice, big brother.” “Go to bed, Gin.” “If you had just gone ahead and asked Hermione to the dance, you wouldn’t be sulking in a corner of the common room.” “I am not sulking!” “Whatever,” she sighed. “Hey, Colin, have you finished your Potions essay yet?” Harry eventually returned. They played a few games of chess. While Ron won each game, it wasn’t with his usual dominance. “Merlin, where is she?” he fumed. Harry shrugged. “My guess would be the library.” “It’s going to be curfew soon.” “I think she knows that, Ron.” “Doubt it. Still probably talking to that stupid Ravenclaw boy.” He held up his hand, stopping Harry from speaking. “I know, I know. I’m being an idiot. Ginny’s already told me.” “Smart girl, your sister.” “What was that, Potter?” “Never mind,” Harry said quickly. “I’m going to bed. Night.” “Night, mate.” After Harry left, he watched the fire. He was so lost in his thoughts he almost missed Hermione’s return. She flinched when she saw that he was waiting up for her, and it made him feel worse. “Where ya been, Hermione?” He hoped he had kept his tone friendly and casual. It clearly wasn’t the approach she had been expecting from him. “I’ve been on patrol. It’s been pretty quiet tonight.” He groaned. He was supposed to have accompanied her. And with things like they were, he wouldn’t have put past Malfoy to try something on her. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I should have gone with you.” “It’s okay. Like I said, it’s pretty quiet.” “Hermione, I. . .” “I’m tired,” she interjected. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Ron.” “Good night, Hermione.” He watched as she headed to the stairs. “By the way, congrats on finding a partner.” She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I didn’t ask him, Ron.” “What?” “He wasn’t the person I wanted to go with,” she said with a soft smile. “Guess I’ll have to wait for the right one to ask me. Night.” She was gone up the stairs before he could gather his wits. She hadn’t asked the other boy. She wasn’t going with the boy from Ravenclaw. She still needed a partner. He smiled as he headed up to his dorm. He still had a chance. And he was going to ask her tomorrow. After all, how hard could it be?


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