Saved the Best for Last

Chapter One

Saved the Best for Last

The library was nearly deserted. She had expected as much, though. It had been that way every Saturday since she'd started at Hogwarts. It didn't matter that much to her, though. She kind of liked it that way. She found her favorite table in the back and sat out her books and parchment. She took a couple of feather quills out of her bag and settled down in the chair. She sat there for about thirty minutes, but she hadn't read the first page or written the first thing on the parchment. Her mind was elsewhere.

She tried again to clear her head and focus on the book in front of her. All her life whenever she had a question or whenever she had a problem, she always could depend on a book to get her through. She wouldn't find the answer to this problem in a book, though. If she couldn't find the answer in a book, she'd usually ask her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She couldn't ask them about this---they were the problem.

She had known that Ron liked her. She'd had a feeling after the Yule Ball. His actions that night had confirmed it for her. She was flattered, but the truth was she didn't see Ron that way. Even if she did, she couldn't imagine the relationship having much staying power. They were like oil and water, most of the time. She doubted if they'd even become friends had it not been for Harry. He was the link. He was what held the three of them together. She loved both him and Harry, both. She valued their friendship above everything---even schoolwork. With Harry, things had always been different. While her and Ron's relationship was combative, Harry and Hermione rarely fought. They knew each other quite well, to the point where they could finish each other's sentences. Harry had even told her on numerous occasions that he'd doubted he'd have made it through without her help. She had blushed when he said stuff like that. She liked hearing him say that. What girl didn't want to hear how important she was to the boy she liked?

There she'd admitted it. She liked him. She had liked him for so long she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't. It was the reason that things hadn't worked out with Viktor Krum, the dashing Bulgarian Team Quidditch player. Viktor had called her on it the previous summer when she had visited him. She could still remember every word of that conversation.

"Hermy-own-ninny? You've been awfully quiet," Viktor had said one afternoon at a Bulgarian restaurant.

"I've just been thinking about Harry, you know. I can't imagine what it's like for him to be stuck with that awful family all summer after all he went through with the Tournament and everything. I just wish there was something I could do."

"You 'ave been here for six days, Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor said. "And not a day has gone by where you haven't mentioned Harry."

"I'm sorry, Viktor," Hermione said. "I'm just worried about him, that's all."
"No, I don't think it is," Viktor said. "I like you, Hermy--own-ninny. I like you very much. But, if I'm just wasting my time, I'd wish you'd let me know. It's not fun to run a race that you cannot win. A race that you lost before you even began."

"What are you trying to say, Viktor," Hermione said. "I don't understand. I've told you a number of times that Harry and I are just friends."

"Whom are you trying to convince me or yourself?" he asked. "I've seen how you look at him. I've heard you talk about him. I've seen you with him. I can see it. And I'm not the only one. That Rita Skeeter woman could see it---"

"Honestly! You know that woman was just trying to sell a newspaper. Most of the stuff she wrote was embellished rubbish," Hermione began. Viktor interrupted her.

"That woman may have been trying to sell papers, but I think she still touched on something. There's a little truth to every lie, you know." Viktor said, softly. "Can you honestly tell me that you don't have feelings for him?"

She was silent. She had all of a sudden become very interested in the table.

Viktor shook his head. "I didn't think so."

"Who meets their soul mate at 11?" Hermione said.

"I think you did," Viktor said. "It's just a shame it wasn't me."

Hermione had tried to argue with him. She had tried to argue with herself. Nothing made sense, though. Viktor was right. And therein laid the problem. This was bad, to put it simply. There was no other way around it. She and Ron and Harry were all growing up and things were changing. She closed her book and began to pack up. The answer wasn't in the books.

Three friends. The Dream Team. The beginning of the classic, clichéd love triangle. Ron liked her, she liked Harry and she had no idea how Harry felt.