Shocked by the revelation that the love of her life thinks she is "porky", Hermione goes to great lengths to change her appearance during the summer holidays. But what effect will her newfound beauty have upon her triangular friendship with Harry and Ron?
For Love of Hermione
22nd AugustIt was nearly the end of the summer holidays, and a rather plain, bushy-haired girl was lying on her stomach in the garden, a neat, moderately tended example of middle-class suburbia. She was reading a book, Treatises on Trigomagica, by Reatus Dabbling, and eating salt and vinegar crisps out of a bowl.
"Hermione!" Judith Granger, an older model of her daughter, with a dark mass of hair cut so short that it stuck out around her head, and wearing shapeless old trousers and a flowered shirt, stepped out of the back door. "Supper time, darling!" Hermione jumped up, carefully marking her page, and followed her mother indoors to the smell of shepherd's pie.
"Mm, it smells great, mum!"
"Ahem!" David Granger cleared his throat teasingly.
"Oh," added her mother hastily, "Dad did help." She handed Hermione a plate, and the family tucked in to the rather haphazard pie. Mrs Granger's cooking was not renowned as the best, even if she did try very hard. Hermione could not help thinking of the delicious food she would be eating at her friend Ron Weasley's house the next week. She had sent him an owl complete with holiday snaps – Ron, and she suspected, his father, were fascinated by unmoving Muggle photographs, and that morning had received a reply, inviting her to his house for the last week of the holidays. A letter from Harry was enclosed too, and she was saving that to read tonight.
"What were you reading, Hermione?" asked her mother.
"Oh, Treatises on Trigomagica."
"Is it for your advanced Arithmancy course?" questioned David, proudly.
"Yeah, it's very interesting – if a bit heavy going!" Her parents tittered appreciatively. If that had been Ron and Harry, her two best friends, they have been laughing at her for being so work-orientated. The truth was, Hermione had never really been seriously introduced to any other pastime for any length of time, and working was her life.
"So, if I'm going to the Weasley's on Wednesday, for the rest of the summer, I'll need to pack soon really," she said, whilst clearing the dishes.
"Oh, I wish you weren't going quite so soon. I do like having you around," said Judith, sighing.
"But I've been invited – and this school is very important to me."
"Oh, I know, dear. I am so proud of you for doing so well – boarding school is just the price we must pay." Judith proffered a huge slice of cake. "Take this upstairs, while you pack, go on!"
Hermione hurried up the stairs, panting, and came into her room, a neat little place, covered in wizard photographs and sketches done by her friend Dean Thomas, who was gifted with a pencil, and made them come alive with spells. Sitting down at her desk, she bit into her cake, and decided to dig into Harry's letter.
Dear Hermione,
Glad to hear from you via. Ron (I take it's all right I read his letter!). Hope you've been having a good summer – Greece sounded awesome. I've been cooped up a bit at my aunt and uncle's, but am now at Ron's. Dudley (the cousin) gave up the wrestling (he was banned after losing his temper and hurling a judge into the ringside) and has put on a lot of weight again where the muscles were, which makes me feel a lot safer when he's around, as he's not as strong and just sits around with his friends in stupors. He's discovered a few things over the year, I've found out. He smokes like a chimney, despite Aunt Petunia's cries that "that horrid Jake just breathes all over him". Also, I found an empty vodka bottle in his room, but I'm not too worried. He's so huge it couldn't possibly affect him! He has a girlfriend, a "beautiful" one, according to his mother, who's actually a peroxide blonde nearly as big as him!
By the way, Ron thinks your Muggle cousin from the photos is really fit! I'm completely over Cho. Are you still going with Viktor Krum? In a way, I hope not, because I'm completely hung up on you! You look a little porky in those holiday snaps you sent Ron (!), but I still think you're really attractive. Anyway, sorry to bring up my feelings – it's probably the last thing you want to hear.
Love, Harry
Hermione slammed the letter back onto the table, shocked. Harry hung up on her? And she was porky! She rummaged around in her papers, and opened the packet of photos she had not stuck up yet, taken on her holiday in Greece. The first was a shot of her splashing in the sea with her cousin, Daniella. They were both in bikinis. Daniella was tall and extremely slim, with long blonde hair and a perfect tan. Hermione looked at herself with a sigh. She was so much shorter, and so much chubbier. Her pale stomach stuck out a bit, and her legs were adolescent and flabby. Tears pricked at the back of Hermione's eyes. Harry Potter, the one boy she had ever cared for, thought she was fat. She had never liked Viktor as much as she had loved Harry – all that had been a pretence to hide her insecurities.
Hermione locked her bedroom door, and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on her wardrobe door. She was wearing flared jeans and a strappy top. The trousers were just a little too tight, straining at the pockets. Sighing, she unbuttoned them, and let them slide to the floor, seeing her legs emerge like tree-trunks. She peeled off the striped vest top, and stared at the girl standing in her underwear, a pair of black knickers – size 12/14, and a plain T-shirt bra she had bought with her mother. It was slightly too small, cutting into her. Hermione was actually crying now. She was ugly, and disgustingly fat, and that did not bother her. It was the fact that people were actually noticing it.
"Hermione!" Her mother was knocking at the door. She hurriedly pulled on slacks and a baggy shirt, and opened it.
"Darling! Have you been crying?"
"No, just had a sneezing fit," Hermione said lightly.
"Well, would you like some more cake?" asked Judith, smiling.
"Um, no... it's all right."
"Really, Hermy?"
"No." She steeled herself. "Mum, do you think Daniella's prettier than me?"
"Oh, darling, no. She's very obviously pretty. But far too skinny, that child – looks like a daddy-long-legs! I much prefer you."
"Oh. Well, mummy, I'd better be packing, so night! See you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, darling."
That night, before sinking into uneasy sleep, Hermione vowed that she would become thin. That would show Harry! She would be beautiful, and then she would play the part of the aloof friend to perfection...
29th August
Hermione hadn't eaten anything for the last four days, carrying out her plan with steely resolve. She was usually very determined in doing work, and now transferred this to her diet seamlessly. The problem was, that afternoon she was to go to the Weasley's, and she looked awful, self-confessedly. Not eating had left her rather pale and limpid-looking. So, at nine o'clock in the morning, Hermione decided, against her moral judgement, to use magic to beautify herself, and she collected together all the materials she thought she would need.
"I have to look as stunning as I can, to taunt him," she persuaded herself, first raiding her mother's make-up bag for Muggle facial products. She nipped out to the nearest chemist to purchase a few extra articles, as her family's emphasis was not on external appearance, so she did not have much. She had also decided to bend the rules of no magic during the holidays. The Ministry would not interfere unless a Muggle came into contact with a spell, and so she carefully locked her door. Her parents were at work anyway.
First she used liberal quantities of Sleekeasy's Hair Potion on her bushy hair, so it fell in soft, shiny waves beyond her shoulders. Then she put a Permanence Charm onto it, so it would remain so for a good few weeks. She applied Muggle face powder onto her slightly shiny nose, and subtle mascara and eyeliner, first lengthening and curling her rather stubby lashes around her wand. In a book she had never thought she would use, given to her by Penelope Clearwater, an ex-Hogwarts student who had liked her and given her a pile of second-hand school things after Hermione had saved her life, she found a Facial Radiance Charm, and applied it, so her skin and eyes glowed brightly. Next came the most important things. Here Hermione was dabbling into rather dodgy territory. It was rather underhand to use magic to change other people's view of her, but she was desperately unhappy, and therefore justified it within herself. She carefully learnt some new spells to use. They were, as advertised in the book, by Belinda Bleentiful:
Slimming Spell – An innovative new spell, which gives the illusion of slimness. Lasts for one week. Guaranteed to make you look as if you have lost at least five pounds, depending on body size.
Desire Draught – Put this charm on a glass of water, and drink. It makes the drinker look infinitely more desirable.
Beauty Charm – Enhances the natural beauty of the user.
Hermione had also sent off by Owl Order for the following potion, advertised in the Daily Prophet, rather against her better judgement.
Dr Dassel's Diet Potion
Struggling to shift a few pounds? You won't be soon! Drink this potion and you will instantly lose one pound per measure (see lid for measure) from key target areas found by extensive surveys of British witches. Satisfaction Guaranteed!
This was really to be the key to her operation, and had cost an outrageous eleven Galleons for the small bottle.
"It had better work," she muttered, pouring out one lid-full, equalling one measure. She quickly drank some measures of the foul-tasting stuff. It was a very queer sensation, like a corset tightening around her whole body, but within a minute, her jeans were too baggy, and her stomach had tautened visibly. Excited, she downed more mouthfuls, until her tummy was nearly flat, and her jeans hung around newly defined hips.
Hermione applied the last few spells, and looked in the mirror. The change was truly miraculous. She had purposefully not changed herself too much, but she looked infinitely more attractive. She shrank her clothes with a wave of her wand, and altered the jeans so that they sat lower on her waist, showing off her flat stomach. She was pleased – no weight had come off her chest, so she had a good figure in her strappy top, which she shrank so it clung, and shortened it to reveal her navel. Happy finally, she finished her packing, and threw on a big jersey so her mother was not alarmed by her changed appearance when she returned from her dentist's practice at lunch.
"Bye, mum!" Her mother hugged her tightly as Hermione waved goodbye from her local station's platform, and stepped onto an ordinary Muggle train bound for London.
"Have a great term, darling! Do well in your exams!"
"Bye, then." Hermione pulled in her trunk and settled herself in a compartment. It would take twenty minutes to get as near as she could to the Leaky Cauldron, owning the only wizard fireplace she knew how to get to from the Muggle world, and she would then travel by Floo Powder to the Burrow. She knew the Weasley's little house was in Ottery St. Catchpole, but had no idea where that village was. Hermione had sent an owl to Ron and Harry that morning:
Dear Ron and Harry,
I'm all packed and ready to go this afternoon – please could you make sure there's nothing in your kitchen fireplace, Ron, because I'm coming by Floo from London.
Anyway, I can catch up with everything at around five, when I'll be arriving. Hope all is well,
Love, Hermione
With somewhat vindictive pleasure, Hermione was looking forward to Harry's expression when he saw her. Even on the Muggle train, a few youths were eyeing her up appreciatively, taking in her long hair, attractive heart-shaped face and large, well-accentuated brown eyes, as well as her new figure. She would show him... All those years that she had hidden her love for him, and borne his teasing comments; they would be repaid. She would be detached, and pretend that nothing was different. She rehearsed the lines in her head, smirking inwardly.
"D'you need help getting this off?" asked a tall boy, who looked about eighteen, as she heaved her trunk off.
"No, it's all right," she said, in a low, laughing voice, smiling teasingly at him. This flirting thing wasn't as hard as it seemed! It took only a few minutes to get to the Leaky Cauldron, and it was only half-past-four when she was standing in the fire with her trunk, having paid Tom, the barman, for a pinch of Floo Powder.
"The Burrow!" she said, clearly, feeling the hot, whirling sensation as she was whisked the many miles through a network of fireplaces, coming to rest in the Weasley kitchen, where Ron's mother was supervising a knife peeling potatoes of its own accord, while she read a copy of Witch Weekly.
"Hi Mrs Weasley," said Hermione eagerly.
"Oh, hello dear," replied Mrs Weasley, getting up hastily to help the girl with her trunk. "You look wonderful, Hermione, really different. Now, the boys are upstairs in Ron's room. Leave your trunk here, and Bill can levitate it up in a minute."
"Thanks, Mrs Weasley!" said Hermione, walking through the kitchen to the stairs, and up past the explosions in Fred and George's room. Fred and George were Ron's elder brothers, who owned a prominent joke shop in Diagon Alley. Ron's room was right at the top. Hermione smoothed her hair and hooked one thumb nonchalantly in a belt loop before pushing open the door.
"Hey Ron, hey Harry!" she greeted the boys, standing in the doorway.
"Oh, Hermione! You're early," said Ron. "We were going to come down to meet –" He stopped short, looking up, gasping. "Whoa, you look so different!" he remarked, unsubtly. Harry remained silent, inwardly gasping as loud as Ron.
"Do I?" she said, turning around, innocently.
"Well, yeah," said Harry, speaking for the first time. "Different." Harry truthfully could not find words to express his feelings. He had fallen in love with this girl, or so he thought. He had fallen in love with her personality, in spite of her bushy hair, buckteeth and plumpness. Now he was confronted with all he had ever wanted, as well as a beautiful appearance.
"Um... cup of tea?" offered Ron, gobsmacked.
It was later that night, and Hermione was installed in Ginny's room. The boys were finally alone again, and could talk freely.
"Whoa, she looks fine!" said Ron, honestly.
"Yeah, she's lost weight, hasn't she?" Harry replied.
"'S'not just that. She's done something with her hair, and she just looks like... amazing! She's so much more confident. I think I fancy her, y'know Harry?" Harry inhaled sharply.
"Um, Ron, I've been in love with her for the past year."
"Cut it out! You were in love with Cho, weren't you?"
"Not really. I've always liked Hermione."
"Don't give me that!" Ron was bemused. He and Harry had never competed over girls before.
"Yeah, I have! Seriously Ron, she's the one!"
"Yeah, mate. Now she is," said Ron, woodenly. "I don't believe you're lying about this, anyway. I might have let you have her, but..." He broke off as Harry cut in.
"Let me have her! You think? You're the one who I had to find a date for the Yule Ball. You're the one who's never had a girlfriend. I'm the one with the fan club, mate, and you know it!" Harry regretted saying that instantly, but could not bring himself to apologise.
"Fine." Ron was livid now – Harry could sense his anger across the dark room. "If it's going to be a competition, let it be a competition. The winner can get her. And it'll be her choice. Let's see who's got the flirting skills, then." And Ron turned over, fists clenched.
"Good. Try to beat me at my own game, then." Harry rolled over the opposite way, imagining himself pulverising Ron's head and feeding it to the Giant Squid. Hermione was looking on, clapping. She was wearing a white silk dress, and as she dived into the lake, the material clung, nearly transparent. Harry dreamed of the lake for quite a while...
31st August
The church clock of Ottery St. Catchpole tolled midnight. Hermione tiptoed across the silent corridor and opened the door of Percy's deserted room, which was dark and forbidding. It contained a desk and a bed, still lovingly made by Mrs Weasley. She could hardly contain her excitement. She was wearing a baggy blue shirt and the same skirt she had worn that day, a denim mini. As she sat down on the bed, the door creaked open again.
"I'm so glad you could get out," said Hermione, eagerly. "Is he asleep? Ginny is."
"Yep, he is. And Fred and George are out; they're sleeping in the shop. Bill's in their room, and it's all dark. We're safe!" He touched Hermione's shoulder lightly.
"I've been waiting for an opportunity to be alone. But it's the last night of the holidays. At school, it might not be so easy," said Hermione, relaxing under his gentle massage of her back. His hands were under her shirt, following her spine, softly moving. Soon they moved round, not too fast and distastefully, but tenderly, to the curve of her sides, and then up to her bra. She felt comfortable as he undid her shirt, stroking her stomach, kissing her. His hot lips moved from hers down her body, and she felt her stomach clench, butterflies rising.
He was happy, moving his hands and his lips over her beautiful smoothness. Her curves were perfect, existing but firm and toned. Her soft lips in a half-smile as she kissed, demonstrating to him how lucky she felt. Her body was amazing, and her personality was as vibrant as it had been before. What more could her ask for? All the guilt for betraying his best friend ebbed away as he continued to caress the beautiful girl, knowing that he would have been doing the same thing, if Hermione had chosen him.