Chapter 1
Chapter 1
My heart was pounding with anticipation throughout the entire day. All I could think about was getting back up to my dormitory to work on my hair and make myself look at least passable for my Triwizard Champion. And once I started thinking about that, I started thinking about how incredibly impossible it was that he had even asked me to go to the Yule Ball in the first place, which got me thinking about why he would have even considered asking someone like me, and then everything just snowballed and before I knew it, my eyes were unfocused and Professor Flitwick had to say my name several times before I was even able to process what he was asking. Answering correctly was completely out of the question. By the time dinner came around, I was completely out of it. I ended up shoveling my lunch down so quickly I almost choked and speeding up to my dormitory two hours earlier than I needed to in order to get ready.
Thankfully, my room was empty. But I knew that within the next half hour at least, Lavender and Parvati would rush in to start their own beautifying process for Seamus and Harry. I thought I would get a head start, and I pulled from my dresser next to my four poster bed the bottle of "Mama Stella's Magical Hair Remedy" potion that I had ordered from Hogsmede and the black dry cleaning bag that my mother had sent me from the muggle village back home. It was lucky, really, that she had convinced me to go dress shopping this summer when we saw the request for dress robes on my letter from Hogwarts. I was planning on just getting by with a dark blue pair of robes just like the ones for school, but of course my mother went above and beyond. She took me to every single boutique and high class shop within a 100-mile radius in a search for the "perfect dress." Since the Yule Ball hadn't been announced at the time, of course we had no idea what this dress was supposed to be for, but she wasted no time in getting me to struggle my way into more than ten several-hundred dollar dresses per store. I got the distant feeling that this was her way of overcompensating for the fact that her daughter that turned out to be a witch wasn't going to be going to a Prom. The result of all of that nonsense, however, was a beautiful periwinkle blue dress that I thought would have been a bit much for going all alone when she first sent it to me. Once Viktor asked me to accompany him to the dance, though, I knew my overzealous mother was right in going a little overboard. It was exactly what I needed to look like I belonged with a famous Quidditch player.
I unzipped the bag and started to apply the Hair Remedy as Parvati and Lavender walked in, giggling furiously. They glimpsed at me and Lavender turned back to Parvati, whispering something I couldn't hear but knew it was about me. Nonetheless, I kept my head high as I faced the mirror and poured the entire bottle into my hair.
Three hours later, I was walking towards the Library, my school robe wrapped around me. Viktor had said that the Library would be the best place to meet, mostly because of the fact that this was where he and I met, and where he asked me to go to the dance with him. As I approached the corridor leading towards the Library, I heard muffled footsteps behind me and I turned around. "You look beautivul."
I could feel my cheeks turning bright pink as I looked down at my feet and smiled nervously. "Thanks, Viktor," I mumbled, and I turned my head to look behind me for more students. There weren't any.
"Are you ready to go down to the ball, Hermy-own?" At this, my cheeks went from bright pink to downright red. As much as I loved Victor's accent, I always got a tad frustrated when he pronounced my name wrong. At a moment like this, though, I just got even more embarrassed. I giggled and shifted my weight onto my other foot awkwardly as I unwound my crossed arms and took a step forward towards him. He held out his elbow for me, and we set off for the Great Hall.
I can't believe I am stuck with this insufferable twit, she disgusts me in her frilly and repulsive pink costume, I thought, as Pansy clutched my arm with viselike intensity. Her nails stabbed my skin and she was squealing at 10 second intervals, consequence of various unimportant and shallow things that apparently excited her small and incapable brain. Crabbe and Goyle were walking behind us; clad in hideous green dress robes that fit them both like a very thin skin for one of the sausages they were so partial to every morning. I ambled on, attempting to ignore the pain in my arm and to put on a convincing charade that would not let slip my disappointment of the fact that Parkinson was the only girl that I even had a chance with tonight. The way I was strutting, with my chin held high, you would think that the miserable slob seizing my upper arm was the hottest thing since Ferrah Fawcet.
Pansy was still squealing and jumping obnoxiously at every decoration and ball attendee as we walked past the Saint Potter and Weaselby and their so-called dates. I would never admit to my suspicion and frankly, envy, when it came to how in the hell those two ghouls managed to get the two most attractive girls in our year. But I tried not to dwell on the unpleasantness of that.
I steered Parkinson and the friends-acting-like-bodyguards to a table almost full with fellow Slytherins and plopped into a chair, finally freeing my arm of Pansy's firm grip. "God this place looks like a blizzard hit it. That miserable oaf Hagid has overdone it with the pitiful decorations." I said this to no one in particular, but as usual all the people surrounding me were hanging on to every word. Parkinson's smile drooped and she looked let down, as if she was hoping I would tell her how beautiful I thought the room was. Pathetic, I thought. Wasn't the thing she worshiped most about me my negative and insulting demeanor? When was she ever going to stop dreaming that I would be anything but cruel and distasteful towards her? The woman was deluding herself into thinking she could "change" me, as so many other foul girls had before. She'd learn eventually though, that no girl could ever pray to turn me into some kind of weak-minded fool that goes head over heels for someone. What would my father think of me?
Just as I was thinking this, and smirking about the delusions all those women had had about me and my outlook on life, something happened to wipe the smirk off my face.
Hermione Granger walked past, arm in arm with a man that I never thought would stoop so low to ask a filthy mudblood to the Yule Ball. What was he thinking? What kind of publicity was he looking for? But these questions seemed to fade and then completely evaporate from my train of thought as I took a look at Granger. She was absolutely stunning.
Granger's hair was pulled back into an elegant twist in the back of her head, it was no longer shriveled up curls or tangled or unattractive in any way. Her flawless skin was practically glowing as she beamed towards the audience in hers and Viktor's slow progression to the dance floor with the other champions. She was wearing a beautiful set of dress robes fit for royalty, and her bare arms and legs were, I hated to admit it even to myself, enticing. The material of Granger's dress robes floated, it seemed almost weightless as it moved around her, entwining her body gracefully. She even walked differently, held herself higher. She wasn't hunched over with her book bag tonight; she was striding down the aisle with purpose, holding onto Krum's arm lightly. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and she wiggled her shoulders a little, attempting to cover some of her skin. The feeble movement of her shoulders caused my eyes to linger towards her exposed cleavage and for the first time in my life, I found myself swallowing nervously, fidgeting in my seat, finding myself completely won over by Hermione Granger.