"Really? A good friend? He has single handedly - well he, his sister and that silver-bearded manipulator - kept you from achieving your soul mate and your potential, but we'll get back to them in a while," Miranda said.
"Now, fourth year; ah, yes, the Triwizard tournament. I celebrated for hours when that 'friend',"
Miranda's voice dripped in sarcasm at the word, "left you. Finally, I had you two together. How many hours did you spend together during that time? But this time I blame you, Hermione. You pushed Harry too much into the Library.
If you had just spent a little more social time with him, he would have got his mind off of that Cho person and onto you…AAARRGGGGHHHH" Miranda hands had reached up to her hair before she regained her composure.
"Then there was the Yule Ball. I am not even going to comment on that one. But I bet you feel foolish now in not asking Hermione, don't you, Harry?"
Harry looked over at Hermione as he remembered how beautiful she was that night. "Yeah, I do," He admitted.
Hermione head snapped up at that comment as she stared questioningly at her best friend. "You do? If we had to do it all again, you'd ask me?"
"Yes, I would, without a doubt," Harry replied without a bit of hesitation.
"Well, so much for that perfect vision in hindsight. Unfortunately, you're bloody blind when looking forward," Miranda continued. "But before the Yule Ball, there was that first task, when it was over you," She was glaring at Hermione again, "just had to bring the red-headed idiot back with you after the dragon, didn't you?"
"You're talking about my potential boyfriend," Hermione complained.
"Really? Potential boyfriend? After that kiss? Haven't you been listening to me? You and Harry are soul mates."
"What does that mean?" Hermione asked in frustration. "You keep saying it, but not explaining it."
"Later, I'm on a good tirade here," Miranda replied dismissing her question with a wave of her hand. "Now, after that first task, if the red-headed 'friend' hadn't followed you, the kiss would have happened right then and there," Miranda threw her hands up in the air. "There went another four handfuls of hair. We already covered the Yule Ball, and how in the world did Ron Weasley go from being an idiot, to the thing you would miss the most in a couple of months?" Miranda was now glaring at Harry. "You do realize half the students in the stands wondered if you were gay after that, don't you?"
"Uh, no."
"Well, they did. Not that is a bad thing, but that is not the love I had destined for you..." Miranda said with a shake of her head and a sigh.
"Now I won't even mention the third task and what happened afterwards, but, Hermione, do you remember the train station? The kiss on the cheek? Three inches away from the lips, come on, three bloody inches and it would have been perfect. I tried my best to get Harry to turn his head at just the right moment. Damn that noble streak in him."
"I was just trying to show him I cared."
"But then you must have stopped, since you let that idiot of a Headmaster dictate what you would tell Harry,"
Miranda replied is disdain. "Just when he needed his friends the most; when he had watched someone die before his eyes; a person who died because Harry was trying to be fair, his friends were not to be found. You basically ignored him."
"I...I...he, I mean the Headmaster said we couldn't tell him anything."
Miranda shook her head and turned to Harry. "Harry, why didn't you ever push to know why you had to keep going back to the Dursleys? Why not question why the Headmaster of your school had any say on what you did? How he could leave you after you witnessing Cedric's death to a life of isolation is beyond me. Bloody Greater Good."
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I...I just thought it had to be that way."
"But it still made you angry, didn't it?" Miranda asked. "To be left alone and uninformed."
"Yes," Harry said as he remembered that summer.
"But, who should you've been angry with? Your friends, or the idiot who forbade them to write."
"The id...I mean Dumbledore," Harry replied guiltily. He turned to Hermione. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"You're right, you shouldn't have," Miranda growled. "I had it all set up, you would have been kissing Hermione the day you arrived at the Black home, but no, you had all this misdirected anger at her. Do you know how much hair I lost that day? Too bloody much," The Goddess of Love looked at Hermione, "Though you should have been writing to Harry more. You could have figured out a way to tell Harry some things without the Headmaster finding out."
"But...but Dumbledore said not too," Hermione replied, looking somewhat bashful.
Miranda just shook her head. "I've got to deal with that as well," she muttered under her breath. "That fifth year was a mess, but Hermione, if you could have seen the look on Harry's face when that Death Eater hit you with that curse, you would never doubt he was in love with you."
"In love with me? Harry?" Hermione asked as she glanced over at Harry. "But…."
"I'm getting ahead of myself," Miranda replied, cutting Hermione off. "But, I guess I'm finished with my tirade anyway. Time to move on to the Weasleys next since they had the most to do with the rest of the time."
"What about them?" Harry asked.
"Let's just say you two ending up with them was not a case of finding true love," Miranda responded.
"What? But...they wouldn't? But...you don't mean they used love potions on us?" Hermione argued.
"Oh no, they knew that you'd sniff out a love potion in a heartbeat Hermione," The Goddess of Love explained. "But they gave you something far worse; something that almost cost you two more than your soul bond. It almost cost you your friendship."
"Our friendship?" Hermione asked as she glanced at Harry.
"Tell me, why would you have been jealous of Lavender Brown?"
"Be...because I fancied Ron," Hermione answered. "And...and..."
"You fancied a young man who always argued with you about things that are at the core of your beliefs? A young man who made it habit of calling you mental when you disagreed with him?"
"Well yeah. I mean, he is uh…nice, in a way," Hermione was struggling to figure out exactly what she saw in Ron.
"Nice in the way he belittles what you love?" Miranda asked. "Tries to cut you down so his ineptitude seems impressive to himself."
"Well…" Hermione answered very weakly.