Many pairs of eyes followed Hermione Granger with looks of envy and desire as she swept into the Great Hall in a silken silver dress robe with a tasteful hint of cleavage and her dark curls swept up into an elegant pile upon her head. As she passed through the crowd, one could see the low draping behind her that exposed a beautifully tanned and toned back.
Harry walked over to his best female friend with a look of frank male appreciation in his vivid green eyes.
“‘Mione, you look amazing!” he said with a warm grin. “The tan really suits you. I’m guessing you found a little time for something other than ridiculously complex equations during your fancy Arithmancy conference in Fiji?”
“Thanks, Harry. And yes, I might’ve managed to fit a bit of snorkelling and sunbathing in here and there. By the way, you’re looking pretty spiffy yourself tonight,” Hermione said with a smile, but then she looked around and frowned slightly. “Where’s Gin, though?”
Harry sighed. “She had to go to another practice tonight after the Harpies lost their last match. Or so she says, anyway.” He ran an agitated hand through his perpetually messy hair. “Honestly, ‘Mione, I’m not so sure about us anymore. Everyone really thought we were meant, but now that she actually has me, it’s like she’s lost all interest. So here I am going stag to a Valentine’s ball. Pretty pathetic, yeah?”
“I’m sorry, Harry, truly,” Hermione said softly. “People like to tell me that Ronald and I are meant too. But other than behaving like a jealous idiot whenever another wizard even looks my way, I really don’t see it. And frankly, I’m way past done with him and ready to move on, I think. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try expanding your horizons as well.”
Harry nodded slowly. “Not a bad idea.” He sighed again. “Me and Gin, we want different things out of life anyway. She’s all about the glitz, glamour, rubbing shoulders with the fancy folks, and all that rubbish. Me, I just want to finish Auror training and settle down with a nice girl, maybe have a few kids.” He smiled mirthlessly. “The whole white picket fence deal, you know? I don’t think being the fiancée of the Boy-Who-Lived was anywhere near as exciting as Ginny thought…
Suddenly, Harry stopped dead. “What the hell?”
Hermione turned to follow Harry’s bewildered stare and froze in shocked horror as a score of giggling cupids zoomed up to fly in circles above her head, flinging handfuls of fragrant rose petals that clung to her hair and robes.
A widely grinning Ron then stepped out of the crowd and knelt before her, pulling a small box out of his pocket to reveal a deep orange fire opal set in a thick band of yellow gold.
She felt her gorge rise as Ron said, “‘Everyone knows we’re meant, ‘Mione, so it’s bloody well time we got married, innit?”
Wolf-whistles and cheers erupted from the other guests while Hermione remained wide-eyed, speechless, and rooted to the spot, aghast at Ron’s unmitigated gall in ambushing her with a public proposal of marriage less than a week after she’d caught him enthusiastically nailing Romilda Vane against the wall in a hidden alcove during one of her last evening patrols as head girl.
“You have got to be out of your mind, Ronald! I’ve already told you more than once; we are done. We’ve never ever gone out on a date, and we’ve only ever shared one kiss in the heat of battle. And that single kiss was a mistake. What, has Romilda tired of you already?”
Ron’s freckled face went beetroot red. “Romilda’s a ruddy broom that has given every bloke around a bloody good ride. I was just off sowing my oats is all. Anyway, Romilda’s not the kind of witch a wizard marries now, is she? We’re meant, ‘Mione, it’s about time you and I went and made it all official-like.”
Hermione’s eyes shifted from whisky brown to a glacial dark stare that made Ron reflexively backpedal in instinctive fear. “Let me make this perfectly plain, Ronald,” she growled. “I don’t give a tinker's damn where you choose to dip your wand and I would rather marry a Hungarian Horntail than you. So, you just get that through your bloody thick skull and LEAVE ME ALONE!”
Hermione stormed out of the Great Hall and swiftly made her way to Black Lake. There she shifted and slipped into the water with practised ease, feeling her tension slowly begin to melt away as she dove down into the murky depths.
A quick flash of fins in the corner of her eye and she was on the hunt, sinking her teeth into the tasty flesh of a plump trout just a few seconds later. After her hunger was sated, Hermione swam back towards the dock for a thorough grooming.
As she assiduously cleaned her furry body from nose to tail tip, she slowly became aware of familiar voices coming from somewhere over the weathered wooden planks above her head.
Ron’s gangly legs dangled from the dock next to Romilda Vane’s as the pair snogged and groped one another with abandon before they picked up their butterbeers and drained them thirstily.
“Any joy, lover?” Romilda asked eagerly, her eyes glittering with avarice.
“Soon as I find good old ‘Mione,” Ron boasted proudly. “I nicked the recipe out of George’s files at the Wheezes, so it’s only a matter of time now.”
“What does it do, exactly?” Romilda wanted to know.
“We-ee-ll,” Ron drawled, “Georgie tried to make a new and improved version of their Cupid Crystals, but it didn’t quite work out the way he’d hoped. See, it acted like a Muggle… a woofie, I think he called it. Made the person who took it happy to do anything and everything they were told. And they didn’t remember nuthin’ about it later. George didn’t want anything to do with it after that. He vanished the bottle but kept the formula since he thought the DMLE might have a use for it. That’s how I found out about it. I can’t brew for shite myself, so I got McLaggen to brew it for me. He’s in a real bind and was desperate for a few extra galleons. It’s perfect for my purposes, though. All I have to do is slip a dose into ‘Mione’s punch and get her to marry me.”
Romilda’s eyes widened. “Why the hell do you want to marry HER?!” she screeched angrily.
“Calm down, pet,” Ron said with a cocky grin. “See, if I get her to marry me, then all of her assets go to me after the little bint has a tragic accident during our honeymoon. And let me tell you, ‘Mione’s bloody well loaded between her inheritance from her parents and being the top Arithmancy and Charms consultant in Europe. I’ll be rich and then we can get married and never work another day in our lives. Sounds bloody good, doesn’t it?”
As Romilda shrieked with laughter, Hermione felt her stomach twist in disgust. She had no romantic interest in Ron, hadn't for quite a while, in fact, but she’d still considered him a friend of sorts. That he wanted to marry and dispose of her just to get his greedy hands on the contents of her Gringotts vault… she hadn’t seen that one coming at all.
With a sudden surge of energy, Hermione swam deeper into the water. Down, down, down she went, skimming along the lake’s bottom when she saw a vibrant white light just ahead.
Curious, she swam closer to investigate and spotted a pristine white stone at the base of something that looked like an altar of sorts. It seemed to be… glowing? She peered down at the stone, and, to her surprise, she saw a series of bright blue runes flash once before disappearing.
Feeling an overpowering urge to touch it, she lightly brushed a paw across the impossibly smooth surface.
And vanished.