Harry Potter and the Goblet of Love

Friday passed without hassle, another normal day in the lives of the Hogwarts students. The only thing out of the ordinary was the ever-present crowd around the Goblet of Love. It seemed as though every single student in the school was going to participate in the ritual. All the same, Harry found the whole thing to be rather superfluous, especially when there were much more pressing matters on their hands. Voldemort, school work, N.E.W.T.s. Oh great, there he went sounding like Hermione again. She was really starting to rub off on him now, for the worst in Ron's opinion. Nevertheless, Harry could not deny to himself that his love for her remained.

Harry often had to remind himself how much he hated Valentine's Day. It held too many bad memories from past years, not to mention the fact that he knew he would never "get the girl" so to speak. However, he seemed to be finding it hard to avoid the festivities of the holiday. Every corner he turned around on his way back to Gryffindor tower after dinner that night would either reveal a couple snogging behind a statue in the corner in a vain effort to conceal themselves, or noises coming from an empty classroom that really shouldn't be. The sights made Harry sick to his stomach.

Upon reaching the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry found that it was empty, much to his gratefulness. He settled himself down in a fluffy armchair by the fire and tried to concentrate on something other than Hermione. However, he soon realized that the task would be easier said than done. No matter what he tried to think about, he always found his mind drifting back to thoughts of Hermione.

Love is such a disappointment, he though to himself, when he found he was unable to keep the aforementioned girl out of his thoughts. He stood and began to pace the room, trying desperately to think of something that could distract him from her image.

It was hopeless. Harry's love for Hermione was too strong, and it was just going to keep eating away at him forever unless he did something to balk its actions. But what could he do?

Suddenly, the portrait hole was opened and Ron clambered in, looking to be in a rather good mood, or more so than Harry's, at least.

"There you are!" he said, reaching the Harry's place by the fire. "Why'd you run off like that? You didn't even eat dessert!"

Harry sighed.

"I'm just sort of tired."

"Oh," Ron replied, sitting next to him. "Want to play chess?"

"Uh, sure," Harry replied absentmindedly. Perhaps the game would take his mind off Hermione.

It did, at least until she came back to the common room, looking rather frustrated. Harry sunk low in his chair, hoping she might pay them no attention, but Ron was thinking along different lines.

"Hey, Herm," he called over to her. "Have to get Neville out of another sticky situation?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, unfortunately so," she replied, sitting down on the sofa across from them. "That kid seems to attract bad luck like a dumpster attracts flies. I honestly think-"

"Checkmate!" Ron declared, as Harry's king met a bitter downfall. "Well, that makes the score: Ron-362, Harry-0!"

Hermione clicked her tongue.

"A little conceited there, aren't we Ronald?" she asked.

"It's not conceit when you're the best," he smirked.

The three friends shared a laugh.

"Typical, Ron," Hermione said. "Well, if you two will excuse me, I'm off to do homework."

She stood up and kissed Harry and Ron on the cheek. Harry instantly felt the warmth of her lips flood his body and he felt himself flushing. Yet again, Ron acted as if it was nothing. Truth be told, it was nothing. Hermione had given them friendly kisses on the cheek before, but call him crazy, Harry thought his was special. She smiled at them and went off to her room.

"It's always homework with her," Ron sighed. "I swear, she might as well marry her Arithmancy book."

Harry wasn't listening. He could still feel Hermione's soft lips upon his cheek, and wanted to savor the moment while it was still there. He didn't register when Ron said he was going to go meet Seamus and Dean for a raid on the Slytherin Common Room, but he must have offered some reply since Ron did not question him further. Long after his friend left, however, he was still thinking about Hermione, a fire burning in his heart.

Harry had a wonderful sleep that night.

With the rising of the golden sun in the east that morning, so came the rising of romance in the air of Hogwarts. As planned, slips of folded crimson parchment had appeared on the bedside of every student in Hogwarts, including that of Harry Potter. However, unlike the other hundreds of eagerly awaiting students, Harry was not expecting one.

As usual Harry relied on the sun to awaken him from his slumber. Most of the time, this made him the first one up. Today, though, it was cloudy out, and Harry's sleep was prolonged just enough for Ron to be the first one awake that day.

The youngest Weasley son awoke and swung his feet over the side of the bed, gently rubbing sleep out of his eyes before rejoicing in the knowledge that it was Saturday. He stood up in his too short pajamas and gazed out the window.

"Good day for a snog," he thought sheepishly, seeing that the lack of sunshine would render many corners of the castle in shadow.

This reminded him of the results of the soulmate search. It was today that they were supposed to know them, and Ron was very anxious. He moved back over to his bedside table and sure enough there was the answer. Nervously, Ron picked up the red parchment and unfolded with trembling fingers. The name read "Hannah Abbott" in gold calligraphy.

Ron's first reaction was to breathe a sigh of relief that it was not a Slytherin (or a boy for that matter). Afterwards he was able to take a moment and think about the name. Hannah was a nice girl; Ron had had classes with her and she was always very kind to him. He enjoyed talking to her and she had a good personality as well as a pretty face.

Not a bad body either, Ron added as an afterthought.

The redhead sat down on his bed and smiled to himself. This scheme had turned out okay for Ron's fear of having the worst outcome.

Not too bad, Weasley, he mused. Not too bad.

Suddenly, however, knowing his own perfect match became of little interest to him. Spying Harry's sleeping form on the bed next to him, he became stung with an overwhelming sense of curiosity. He tiptoed quietly over to Harry's bedside, found his slip of paper, and read it. A smirk spread across his face as he read the name, soon replaced by a look of comprehension.

"I should have known," he said to himself, folding the parchment and replacing it on the nightstand. "I should have known."

Less than five minutes later Harry awoke (Ron was seated on his bed daydreaming about Hannah, more specifically her body) and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand, coming across the red parchment in the process. Curious, he held on to the bit of paper and found his glasses. Positioning his glasses on the bridge of his nose, he scrutinized the paper delicately. There was nothing written on the outside of the fold, so he opened it up to check the inside. There was but one thing written upon the parchment: the name Hermione M. Granger. Harry stared at it inquisitively. What did this mean?

"I see you've found your soulmate," Ron spoke up.

Harry turned to look at him.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"I told you already," he said. "Dumbledore set up the Goblet of Love and your name went in. It chose Hermione as your soulmate."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "I never put my name in that blasted thing!"

"No, but I did," Ron smirked.

Harry gaped at him.
"You, you," he couldn't seem to speak.

"Are a hero, I know," he grinned.

Harry could do nothing but stare at him blankly.

"Why did you do that?" Harry demanded.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, does it matter?" Ron said. "I knew you fancied Hermione and she returns the favor. You two were perfect for each other. I had to let you know somehow!"

"But I-" Harry said, but then thought about something Ron had said. "Wait, what do you mean 'she returns the favor'?"

"You're so thick," Ron shook his head. "You're so busy convincing yourself that Hermione doesn't have feelings for you that you've failed to realize that she does!"

Harry was at a loss for words. Here he was, standing in his bedroom on Valentine's Day, fully convinced that at the end of the day he would still be single, only to discover that the girl he had been in love with for years shared his feelings. Here was his best friend, whom he trusted with his life, having gone behind his back and put his name in the Goblet of Love. However, he couldn't decide whether he was happy or upset that he had done so.

"Look Harry," Ron said. "You're my best friend and I love you like a brother, but there's something you have to understand. Things aren't always what they seem. It may appear as though Hermione does not care for you in that way, but believe me, she does. And if you continue to pretend that there is nothing more than friendship between the two of you, you may be making the biggest mistake of your life."

Harry wiped his forehead.

"Ron, are you sure about this? I mean, I don't think I could live with myself is something went wrong..."

"Harry," Ron sighed. "Believe me, if you two love eachother as much as you let on, nothing bad is going to happen to either of you. Trust me."

Harry thought for a moment, and then smiled at his best mate.

"Thanks, Ron, I owe you one," he said.

"Damn right, you do," Ron replied. "In fact, I would consider us even if you would avoid the dormitory until, oh, say eleven o'clock tonight. I'd appreciate it."

Harry stared at him suspiciously.

"Why?"

"Oh, well, that's my business," Ron smirked. "Meanwhile, you'd better go to Hogsmeade. Wouldn't want to upset Hermione with no gift would you?"

"Right," Harry replied, grabbing his cloak and shoes. "Thanks for the help Ron."

"Anytime."

"See ya."

"Bye."