4This is my first Harry Potter fanfic I've written. What I've done is taken a scene (in this case, Hermione's and Ron's bitter argument during the Yule Ball) and rewrote it from another character's (Hermione, in this piece) point of view in first-person. I'm thinking of doing this with other episodes… I wrote this during the last school holidays too, when I had plenty of time...
War at the Yule Ball
Hermione's PoV
On pages 366 to 368 of GoF; Bloomsbury Edition
"I'll sit here, shall I," I said, waving my hand in the direction of Harry and Ron, "while you fetch the drinks, Viktor?"
My partner took my hand towards his lips dropped it a moment later. As he bade me farewell, I felt my arm elegantly fall against the curves of my body. A vague smile slowly crept across my lips – really, Viktor was such a refined gentleman!
I smoothed the creases on my dress robes before sitting down next to Harry. Harry smiled and greeted me as normal; Ron chose to ignore my presence … either that, or he couldn't be bothered saying hello. Nevertheless, I didn't really think much of it…
My face was a bit pink from dancing; I began fanning myself with my hand. A loose strand of hair slipped from my knot at the back of my head, framing my face.
"It's hot, isn't it?" I began, my eyes scanning for Viktor across the dance floor. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks."
Instinctively, I turned just in time to catch Ron's withering look. "Viktor?" he said, in a somewhat scathing tone. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"
My response to this was a raised eyebrow and a surprised, "What's up with you?"
Ron folded his arms, covering his chest. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you."
I stared at him. What exactly was the point of that? I looked at Harry for some sort of explanation for Ron's sudden bizarre behaviour, but he merely shrugged.
"Ron, what –?" I started.
Ron, huffy as ever, spat, "He's from Drumstrang! He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You – you're –" He paused, fishing for a word strong enough to complete his accusation against me, "fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!" Ron glared at me across the candlelit table, a look of pure disgust on his face.
Excuse me? I felt my mouth drop open. At a loss of words, I simply returned Ron's glare and after a moment said, "Don't be so stupid! The enemy!" I stopped for a while here, forcing some kind of choked laughter into the air. The absurdity of it all!
"Honestly – who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?" I shot back, irritation pounding in my body.
However, Ron just had to mysteriously not hear my last bit. "I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?"
"Yes, he did." I felt my cheeks blush a little. "So what?"
Ron's voice was laced with sarcasm. "What happened – trying to get him to join spew, were you?"
I denied this, of course. "No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he – he said he'd been coming up to the library everyday to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!" I said this faster than usual, feeling my blush redden quite deeply.
"Yeah, well," Ron scoffed, "that's his story."
"And what's that," I said pointedly, "supposed to mean?"
Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with… he's just trying to get closer to Harry – get inside information on him – or get near enough to jinx him – " Ron left his implication unwritten in the air: he's just using you!
I was doing all I could not to jinx him myself! I tried to keep control of my voice, which was wavering with rage. Really, what ever was the problem with him? "For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry, not one –"
At the speed of light, Ron changed his tactic. He leant forward slightly. "Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cozy little library sessions –" He straightened his back now, a look of derision on his face.
What a ridiculous idea! Outraged at he very thought, I exclaimed, "I'd never help him work out that egg! Never. How could you say something like that – I want Harry to win the Tournament. Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?" I flickered a glance at Harry meaningfully.
Ron sneered at me. Honestly – that boy! I couldn't believe he had the nerve the ignorance, to attack Viktor like that! For heaven's sake, Ron didn't even know Viktor – well, not the way I did, anyhow.
"You've got a funny way of showing it," continued Ron, still with the same look of contempt plastered on his face.
I stamped my foot with anger. "This whole Tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" Ha – so there, I added silently in my head.
Ron suddenly stood up, knocking his chair over. Hands curled in fists, he shouted, "No, it isn't! It's about winning!"
There was a shocked moment of silence. I felt my cheeks heat up once more as people stared at me and Ron. Ron's lower lip was thrust forward, pouting.
Harry spoke at last, his softly-spoken words shattering the still silence.
"Ron," he began quietly, "I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum –"
But this protest from Harry fell on deaf ears with Ron.
"Why don't you go and find Vicky," Ron said, his face a mixture of anger and mockery. "He'll be wondering where you are!"
Vicky. It was the absolute last straw; I had enough! How dare Ron ruin my night, how dare he! Ron was being such a prat, an idiot – couldn't he behave himself?
I erupted, letting my emotions run like a fierce-moving river. "Don't call him Vicky!"
With that melodramatic parting of disgust, I jumped to my feet, turned sharply on my heel (sending my chair collapsing on the floor) and, without a backwards glance, stormed off across the dance floor, fuming. Honestly, the nerve of him!
Review please - I like getting feedback (positive preferably, lol)!
Keikolilo