For Harry, what should have been an enjoyable outing to Hogsmeade had been utterly and completely ruined by that unexpected and torturous encounter with Cedric and Cho Chang earlier.
The interaction had left a bitter taste in his mouth that not even the sweet aromas wafting from the village shops could dispel.
Hogsmeade was truly spectacular under the snow blanket. The ancient, crooked buildings with their frost-rimmed windows seemed to have sprung directly from the pages of a fairy tale. The cobblestone streets, partially cleared of snow but still crunchy underfoot, went through the village connecting the various shops and buildings where students and local residents sought protection from the cold.
The cheerful laughter and chatter of young wizards and witches echoed through the narrow streets, yet rather than disturbing the tranquility of this ancient magical village, these sounds of youthful enthusiasm seemed to enhance the harmonious atmosphere, bringing life and vitality to the tranquil setting.
Having grown up amid the concrete jungle of the Muggle world and seen plenty of skyscrapers and bustling traffic, Harry appreciated more than most just how special and unique Hogsmeade truly was.
But despite the picturesque beauty surrounding him, Harry simply could not elevate his spirits from the depths of gloom into which they had sunk. His mood remained as gray and heavy as the winter clouds hanging over the Scottish Highlands.
Deep down, in the rational corner of his mind that wasn't completely overwhelmed by emotional turmoil, Harry understood that he shouldn't have such resentment toward Cedric or blame him.
After all, pursuing a girl one found attractive wasn't some heinous crime deserving of punishment. Cedric had every right to court Cho if he wished, and she had every right to reciprocate his affections.
And yet, despite this logical understanding, Harry couldn't help but find Cedric's very existence increasingly irritating like an eyesore, and felt uneasy even hearing his name. This reaction wasn't only because Cedric had managed to capture the attention and affection of the girl Harry had been secretly admiring from afar.
Perhaps more significantly, it came from the uncomfortable realization that, for the first time in his life, Harry had been thoroughly outmatched by another boy in terms of courage and initiative. While Harry had spent months in silent infatuation of Cho, too intimidated to express his feelings, Cedric had boldly stepped forward and claimed what Harry had only dreamed about.
Thus, when they finally reached Honeydukes Sweet Shop, Harry driven by a desperate need to vent some of the dark emotions within him acted on impulse and without any word to his friends, he walked straight to the counter where Mr. Flume the proprietor, was helping a younger student count out Knuts for a small bag of toffees.
Without hesitation, Harry reached into his pocket and picked out a heavy pouch and tossed thirty gleaming gold Galleons onto the counter.
"I'll take as many sweets as this will buy," Harry said with forced casualness. "A bit of everything, if you please."
Mr. Flume, wisely choosing not to question this unexpected windfall, hurried to fulfill Harry's generous order. To show his appreciation for Harry's generosity, he added a complimentary large bag of Pepper Imps.
"Are you completely out of your mind, Harry?" Ron exclaimed once they had moved to a quieter corner of the shop, his face showed a perfect picture of astonishment mingled with reproach and genuine concern.
He stared at Harry as though he had suddenly sprouted an extra head. "What in Merlin's name has gotten into you? Thirty Galleons? That's practically your entire term's pocket money gone in one go! Have you given up on the concept of financial responsibility altogether?"
Ron shook his head in disbelief as he observed the colorful packages now being wrapped by Mr. Flume. "Even if you're feeling particularly sympathetic toward those children—which is commendable, don't get me wrong—just look at what you've bought! Ice Mice that make your teeth chatter and squeak, Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizzbees that make you levitate slightly off the ground, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum that creates bubbles that won't pop for days..."
With a puzzled frown creasing his forehead, Ron turned to Hermione, seeking confirmation for his rising confusion. "I'm guessing these magical sweets aren't exactly commonplace in the Muggle world, are they?"
"Oh, um..." Hermione, whose attention had been focused entirely on Harry's unusually reckless behavior was startled slightly at being suddenly included in the conversation.
Her eyes were clouded with concern as she observed Harry. "You're absolutely right, Ron," She agreed distractedly, and still watched Harry with the careful attention of someone monitoring an unpredictable situation.
Ron raised his eyebrows high as he squinted at Hermione.
"How are you feeling, Harry?" Hermione finally asked in a gentle, cautious tone, the way one might address someone standing too close to a cliff edge.
"Nothing, I feel perfectly fine..." Harry responded with transparent insincerity, his voice coming flat.
After several seconds of heavy silence, Harry slowly shook his head. Without meeting either of his friends' concerned gazes, he gathered his purchased sweets and walked out of the shop heading towards the post office with his head down.
"What on earth has gotten into him?" Ron finally realized something was off with Harry and asked worriedly.
But faced with Ron's question, Hermione also remained silent, struggling with an internal dilemma. This was Harry's personal secret—something he had never openly shared even with her. She had merely guessed and pieced it together through careful observation. Without Harry's permission, she felt that she shouldn't be discussing it with anyone, even Ron.
That was Hermione's reasoning, but her silence had an unintended and deeply hurtful effect on Ron, who stood waiting for an explanation that wasn't coming.
From Ron's perspective, the situation was clear— Think about it- there was now a secret that both Harry and Hermione were aware of, while he alone remained in the dark. Moreover, they were unwilling to tell him.
"Alright then..." Ron said quietly, the color draining from his face. He didn't press further. "If it's not convenient to say, never mind..."
As he spoke these words of forced casualness, Ron's eyelids drooped slightly. He couldn't know exactly what Hermione and Harry were concealing from him, but he suspected it was something that had happened during that period earlier in the school year when he had foolishly allowed jealousy to drive a wedge between himself and them.
Hermione was startled awake. She suddenly realized that their silence could be interpreted as deliberate exclusion which was a serious blow to Ron.
Seeing Ron quicken his pace to follow Harry, Hermione bit her lip in indecision. After casting a quick glance at Harry's figure already halfway down the snow-covered street, she hesitated momentarily but ultimately chose to tell Ron.
"Hey, listen..." she called softly, reaching out to tug gently at the sleeve of Ron's cloak. Her eyes conveyed a serious warning as they met his. "I can tell you what's going on, but you have to promise not to make a fuss about it, understand?"
Ron blinked rapidly, his eyes shimmering.
"It's like this," Hermione began in a soft voice, her eyes constantly dashing toward Harry to ensure he remained out of hearing range. "It's somewhat complicated to explain, yet actually quite simple when you get down to it. That girl walking with Cedric this morning, she's Cho Chang from Ravenclaw. Well, she's Cedric's girlfriend..."
"Yeah, that much was obvious," Ron said with a matter-of-fact tone, "He practically had a permanent grip on her hand the entire time—just like Percy used to behave around Penelope Clearwater, as if letting go might cause her to float away or something. But I don't see what that has to do with Harry's sudden transformation into a gloomy spendthrift."
"Harry has feelings for her too," Hermione finally revealed, "It started sometime during our third year, from what I can tell."
Under Hermione's nervous, anticipatory gaze, Ron's mouth slowly fell open in astonishment, forming a perfect 'O' of surprise. He looked at Harry's distant figure walking through the snow ahead of them, then back to Hermione, his thoughts were apparently frozen in mid-process, turning him momentarily speechless.
"You mean—" he began, his voice rising with the shock.
But in that precise instant, Ron's exclamation transformed into a startled yelp of pain. Hermione, who had been well prepared for his typically loud reaction, had swiftly delivered a sharp, preemptive kick to his ankle, effectively converting what would have been an attention-drawing shout into a muffled whimper of pain.
"I never knew!" Ron hissed, glaring at Hermione with a complex mixture of shock and annoyance. "And you've been keeping this from me all this time?"
"Oh..." Hermione responded defensively, her expression clearly unhappy at his accusation. "Harry never actually told me either, if that makes you feel any better. I figured it out on my own through observation..."
There were so many aspects of this that needed explanation and were worth commenting on that Ron found himself momentarily overwhelmed, unable to voice his thoughts reasonably. He opened and closed his mouth several times as they continued walking.
"But Ginny..." Ron began hesitantly, only to abruptly close his mouth mid-sentence.
It was no secret that his little sister was crazy about Harry. And while Harry had never been cold or dismissive toward Ginny, he certainly had never reciprocated her romantic feelings either. As a close friend who spent day and night with them, Ron was very sure of this.
By now, Harry had already stepped onto the wooden stairs in front of the post office. He stood under the awning and dumped the parcels of their old clothes and the sweets he had just bought from Honeydukes on the ground with a clatter. Turning around, he saw Hermione and Ron slowly walking this way, whispering to each other.
"What are you two talking about so secretively?" Harry inquired, his voice carrying a sharp edge of suspicion as they finally joined him on the post office steps.
"Oh, nothing important..." Hermione said nervously.
"We were just discussing where we might go next after finishing here," Ron improvised stiffly, clearly uncomfortable with his newly learnt knowledge and not daring to broach the sensitive subject of Harry's 'heartbreak' at this moment.
The shipping fee for their packages was covered by Hermione, as Harry had impulsively spent every last Knut he had brought with him, and most of Ron's meager pocket money had similarly been converted into colorful packets of sweets for the orphanage.
When they came out of the post office, Hermione was carrying yet another large parcel and a stack of letters that had accumulated at the post office throughout the Christmas holidays. Without hesitation, she transferred the heavy package to Ron's arms while she carefully sorted through the various envelopes, examining the handwriting and postmarks with curious eyes.
"All fan mail, as usual..." After a while, Hermione shrugged and stuffed the stack of envelopes she had received into her pocket.
At Hogwarts, not many people were crazily idolizing Hermione. Dumbledore and Bryan, considering the academic atmosphere, had not allowed outside reporters to privately interview the school champions. However, Hermione and Cedric had indeed gained quite a few admirers outside the school.
Since the tournament was broadcast live, every month, the four champions would receive many letters from magical residents across European countries. Most were to praise their performance in the first task, but there were also many containing criticism, speculative accusations, and occasionally outright insults.
Whether the letters conveyed admiration or condemnation, after several months in the spotlight, Hermione had developed a thick skin regarding such mail. The most difficult days of adjusting to her unexpected role as a Triwizard champion had long since passed. She now didn't particularly care about a bunch of strangers talking about her.
The Three Broomsticks was a must-visit pub every time they came to Hogsmeade. Madam Rosmerta served them a few cups of steaming butterbeer. Hermione took out a few envelopes from her pocket and looked through them one by one. Judging from her expression, these letters were clearly not mocking her.
Ron took a sip of butterbeer, sneakily glancing at Harry's expressionless face.
To be perfectly honest with himself, Ron had never encountered this particular type of situation before in their friendship. Harry's previous crisis' had typically involved mortal danger, prophetic dreams, or the approaching threat of Voldemort—straightforward fatal dangers that called for courage.
This matter of unrequited romantic feelings was entirely uncharted territory, He didn't even dare attempt to comfort Harry without some guidance, terrified of saying precisely the wrong thing and making matters worse.
The melodious tinkling of the door chime—ding-a-ling—drew their attention to the entrance, where several Hogwarts professors were now pushing their way into the pub.
Alerted by the doorbell, the three noticed that Professor Watson was also among the faculty members entering the pub.
Faced with Professor Watson's friendly gaze, the three of them instinctively ducked their heads which practically screamed guilty conscience. Although they believed their mission to deliver old clothes and sweets to the orphanage had been an act of kindness and charity, they weren't entirely certain how Professor Watson would view it.
"Let's go. I want to head back to the castle and work on that essay Professor Watson assigned." Harry said, having drained his butterbeer in one gulp. The warmth in his stomach made him feel less uncomfortable, but still lacking interest, he no longer wanted to stay in this place filled with a cheerful atmosphere.
Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance, both maintaining an uncanny silence.
"Alright..." After a brief silence, Hermione nodded. "But let me open this parcel first, if you don't mind. If there's anything inside that happens to be on Filch's list of banned items, I'd rather discover it now than have it confiscated at the castle entrance..."
Harry had no interest in what was inside the parcel. It was Ron who eagerly helped Hermione tear open the wrapping paper.
Inside the parcel was a gift box filled with pastries. When they lifted the lid, they saw many exquisite handmade cakes and pastries neatly arranged inside, looking very tempting.
Ron sniffed the wafting aroma. "It smells really good. Look there! Someone even sent you a flower!"
Indeed, occupying a specially designed lower compartment in the center of the gift box was a very pink rose. This rose had clearly been enchanted, its pink petals were gleaming with a faint luster looking very beautiful and charming.
"Don't do that, Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed sharply, her hand shooting out with surprising speed and force to deliver a resounding smack to Ron's fingers as they instinctively reached toward the flower.
Faced with Ron's aggrieved look, Hermione smugly raised her nose. Then, with her own cheeks turning slightly pink, she pursed her lips and the corners of her mouth curved into a delighted smile as she slowly reached out to touch the rose.
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