Taboo

The Christmas Ball was steadily approaching, and many students had already secured dates for the event; however, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had yet to find dates. One snowy evening, Ron wandered into the common room to find Harry and Hermione arguing in front of the fire. Not wanting to intrude, he quietly sat down at a table in the corner and attempted to work on his homework, but it was impossible to block out their quarreling.

"You really should tell him," said Harry.

"It's my business. He doesn't need to know."

"We're all friends. It's only fair."

"This isn't a matter of fairness. I'm not telling him. And don't you go telling him either," she said.

"It's not my secret to tell," said Harry. "But I'm only looking out for him."

"What's not your secret to tell?" said Ron from the corner. Both of them started and looked around.

"Oh, it's you," said Harry grumpily.

"Yeah, it's me. Have you got a problem with that?"

"No," answered Harry shortly. He gave Hermione a meaningful look; she shook her head. He turned his back on them. "I'm going to bed."

"Suit yourself," said Ron to Harry's retreating footsteps. He turned to Hermione, who was staring into the fire, chin propped up on her hand. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at him from the couch.

"I--I wanted to ask you something," said Ron, twisting his robes nervously.

"What?"

"Hermione, I--I've always liked you. You're so smart and funny and--and I want to be with you." He paused and took a deep breath. "Will you be my girlfriend?" She stared up at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Oh, God, I'm so bad at this," said Ron, interpreting her silence incorrectly. He knelt down on the floor and hid his face in the plush cushions. "I can't believe I said that," he moaned, his voice slightly muffled.

"Ron," said Hermione, sliding onto the floor to sit next to him. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the cushions so that he was sitting next to her. "Ron, listen to me." He covered his face with his hands. "I--I think you're really brave for telling me this. I could never have done it."

He uncovered his face and looked at her in wonder. "Are you--what--what are you trying to say?"

"I--I love you." She leaned towards him and gently kissed his half-open mouth. "I've always loved you."

"I--you--" He touched his lips with his fingers. Then suddenly he leapt up and began to run around the common room like a lunatic. "She loves me! She loves me!" he shouted happily, not even caring that most people were already sleeping. Hermione couldn't help laughing.

"Ron," she said between giggles. "Ron--" Her words were cut off as he swooped over and scooped her up, knocking over a vase. "Hey, put me down!" she protested weakly. He obliged, gently setting her onto the carpet.

"You were getting heavy anyway," he said, winking. "What have you been eating lately?"

"Hey!" She punched his shoulder playfully.

"I was only kidding!" He looked into her sparkling eyes and kissed her, pulling her towards him until their torsos were touching. He wrapped his arms around her waist, one hand tangled in her soft hair.

"What's going on down here?" Ginny emerged, wearing a pink bathrobe embroidered with unicorns. "So, I guess you've found a date for the ball then," she said, smirking as Ron broke off the kiss.

"What? Oh...yeah," he said sheepishly, his ears scarlet. Hermione buried her face in his chest, embarrassed.

"Well congratulations. I'm going back to bed." She shuffled towards the staircase in her slippers. "Oh, and try to keep it down, will you?" she added, snickering.

"God," said Ron after she left. He tugged feverishly at his hair. "Why did it have to be her?"

"She'd have found out eventually," said Hermione reasonably.

"I guess you're right," he said, sighing.

"Don't do that. You're pulling your hair out." She brushed a few strands of hair off his shoulder. "It's getting late. We should get to bed."

"Yeah," said Ron. She gave him a kiss on his cheek and bounded up the stairs, feeling happy and confused at the same time.

---

The next morning, Ron got up very early and waited for Hermione in the common room.

"There you are," he said, yawning.

"Ron? What are you doing up so early?"

"I--I wanted to go down to breakfast with you."

"Oh...that's--that's very nice of you," she said, flustered.

"Shall we then?" He held out his hand; she took it hesitantly.

Harry arrived at breakfast ten minutes later.

"I already know," he said, when he saw Ron open his mouth. "Ginny told me."

"What was she doing up at this hour?" he said, frowning. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Quiddtich practice today," said Harry, pouring pumpkin juice for himself.

"Blimey," said Ron, bacon halfway to his mouth. "I forgot. Sorry, Hermione. I promise I'll make it up to you. You'll be alright by yourself, won't you?"

"Oh, she'll be alright," said Harry coldly, before she could speak. "I'll meet you in the locker room in fifteen minutes. Hermione, I need a word with you." She had no choice but to follow him.

"Bye, Ron," she said glumly. She followed Harry into an empty classroom.

"Hermione," he said, shutting the door. "What you're doing to Ron is really despicable. You're leading him on."

"I really like him, I really do," she protested.

"What about Malfoy?"

"Well...I like him too. Oh, Harry, I'm so confused!" she wailed. "I don't know what to do. I can't possibly choose!"

"You have to," said Harry, crossing his arms. "It's either Ron or Malfoy. Or neither."

"I can't, I can't, I CAN'T!"

"You have to make a decision. I don't want to see Ron get hurt. He's my best mate."

"I can't do it," she said, biting her lip.

"Well, I hope you have a nice time with Draco then," he said nastily, wrenching open the door and leaving her alone in the classroom.

Harry's words echoed in her mind. It's either Ron or Malfoy. Or neither. She weighed her options. If she refused Ron, he'd be devastated, Harry would hate her, and she would be with Draco. If she refused Draco, well...he'd probably go back to tormenting her, Harry, and Ron. If she didn't pick either of them, nobody would be happy. She definitely didn't want that. Suddenly, it clicked: she could pick both. She left the classroom, bumping into Harry, who had been waiting for her.

"Well?" he said expectantly.

"I've made my choice," she said.

"Good. I hope it's the right one."

"It is," she said confidently.

"I'll see you after Quidditch then."

"Bye, Harry," she said hurrying up to the Room of Requirement.