1 - Hermione and The Dance
It was the fifth year for Harry, Ron and Hermione, and they were all fifteen. Hermione had, for a few weeks now, been feeling anxious. Hermione was taking a few more subjects than Ron and Harry, and so she was not with them in every lesson. Hermione was beginning to realize that she was not the most popular girl in the school. It was not like she was an outcast, she wasn't the kind of person who found themselves constantly sitting by themselves in lessons, the sort who had to beg people to be their partner or in their group in a practical class. But then again, she was hardly surrounded by friends. It was starting to sink in to Hermione, that she was practically the only girl who had two boys for best friends. This worried her, in a way that it never had done before. Hermione had a few friends in some classes, though they were more like acquaintances than people she could tell her deepest secrets to. They were almost for convenience, people to sit next to, when she didn't have Harry or Ron. For instance, in Arithmancy, she sat next to Veronica Kendall, who was in Ravenclaw, and in Muggle Studies, a shy girl named Sara Peasely. They were both very studious, and quite boring, if the truth be told. A sudden thought hit Hermione. Do people see me like that? she wondered desperately. Am I as annoyingly brainy as they are? She brushed the thought away crossly, but it stayed at the back of her mind, niggling at her confidence.
It was Arithmancy that Hermione was heading for now. She walked briskly down the corridor to the correct room, her plain black robe flapping around her ankles. I have to get this silly popularity complex off my mind, she scolded herself in thought, and gratefully slid into her seat in Arithmancy, putting her bag down on the floor. She was pleased to have a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and get her homework in order. Hermione told herself brusquely; now pay attention and stop thinking about it. She was glad it was Arithmancy, it was clever, and it obeyed the rules, just how Hermione liked things. She could get her head down and work. However, Hermione had not reckoned on one factor.
"Hi Hermione! How did you find the homework, I thought it was all easy except number three, I bet you could do it easily though, right? I can't wait for the Arithmancy test next week, I was studying for it all of Sunday, I really like tests, I don't understand why people don't like them, do you? I wish that everyone enjoyed school as much as me and you do, then they'd be as happy as us, don't you think? I think that…."
Veronica carried on babbling, not waiting for any response from Hermione, but she had stopped listening. Hermione groaned silently, and put her head down on the desk.
That lunchtime, when Arithmancy had finally finished, Hermione leapt up from her seat, and rushed off to the Great Hall, to meet Harry and Ron, hoping that Veronica would not catch up with her. She sat down with them, and as they piled their plates with food for lunch, Hermione happened to glance down the table. At the other end sat a group of girls. They were a mixture of all four houses, and called themselves the Bewitched Jewels. This was nothing new; they always sat at the end of the table. But Hermione seemed to take them in, as if for the first time. The Jewels had formed at the beginning of that year, and were mostly from Hermione's year, apart from a few Fourth years. They were mainly blonde, and all were slim, tall and gorgeous. They had flocks of boys around them at all times, and were incredibly popular. To become a Jewel was something most girls dreamed of. It meant, to use the Jewels' own phrase; you were la crème de la crème. Hermione knew in her heart of hearts that they were all stuck up snobbish girls, with little brains, and even less personality, with one-track minds for boys, boys, boys. But she still longed to be like them. It went against everything she had always believed in. So maybe I'm changing, thought Hermione angrily, trying to fight hot tears forming in her eyes.
"What's up Hermione?" said Ron loudly, well meaning as always, but yet again putting his foot in his mouth. He spoke so loudly everyone in the vicinity turned to look at Hermione. She put her head down, so her hair fell over her face, hiding her blush, and quietly scurried out of the Great Hall, and away to the library.
"What did I say?" said Ron, oblivious. Harry groaned, and kicked his foot under the table.
Harry knew exactly where Hermione would be, of course. He headed straight up the spiral staircase to the library.
When Hermione had got there, she had sat down in the reading section, and pulled a random book off a shelf. She leafed through it, so as not to attract the attention of Madame Pince, the ferocious librarian, who was not afraid to use her right to throw people out. The last thing Hermione wanted was to go back to the Gryffindor common room, and face Ron and Harry. But as if on cue, Harry appeared by her shoulder. He sat down the in the chair next to her. "Hi," he started softly. "What's wrong Hermione? Is there someone bothering you?"
Hermione knew he could never understand. "I'm fine," she said gruffly, immersing herself in the book. Harry leaned over, and picked the book out of her grasp.
"Hermione? You're interested in 'The Bewitching Art of Quidditch'?" Harry said, a touch of laughter in his voice. "You hate Quidditch!" However, this was the wrong thing to say. Hermione stifled a sob, and ran from the library. Why can't people just leave me alone?" she thought desperately, letting the tears flow freely down her cheeks. Harry sat, baffled, in the library.
It was early evening. Hermione was sitting in her room at Hogwarts, finishing off her weekend homework, even though it was only Friday night. She had not spoken to either Harry or Ron since that afternoon. Three of the girls in her dorm were getting ready for a party at another wizarding school, where they would meet their boyfriends. Something made Hermione look up from her Potions essay, and she watched Erina, Tassia, and Luna putting the final touches to their make-up. Tassia stepped out of her designer skirt and top, and stood in her underwear, trying to decide which dress to wear. In her underwear, it was even more plainly obvious how perfect she was. Medium height, she still had amazingly long legs, and an almost impossibly flat stomach and slender waist, and perfectly rounded hips. Her hourglass figure was immaculate. She had bought three dresses that she liked, because she couldn't choose the nicest. Hermione was about to turn back to her work in disgust, but the sight of Tassia swinging her short pixie-like bob of silver blonde hair, and slipping her figure into a tight revealing scarlet and silver dress, caught her attention for a minute longer. Hermione felt a strange longing in her heart. The 3 girls always went out on Friday and Saturday night, they were the sort who had had boyfriends since the first year, who had looks and bodies to die for, crowds of friends and heaps of confidence. Of course, they were all members of the Bewitched Jewels. Hermione thought of herself- plain, studious, boring. She was still in her loose black school robe; she hadn't bothered changing since lessons ended several hours ago. Her hair was long, she couldn't remember when she had last had it cut, she just hacked off an inch every few months herself. As a result, the ends were uneven, and the colour was dull brown, with no shine. This was not to say that it was dirty- as with everything, Hermione prided herself on personal hygiene, she had a shower in the morning, and a bath at night, and washed her hair thoroughly three times a week. She kept her nails cut short, it was more practical, she reassured herself, and her clothes amounted to school robes, and some plain baggy jumpers, jeans and tee-shirts she had had for years.
Appearance had never mattered to Hermione before, she didn't want friends who judged her on her on what she looked like, and who wanted a boyfriend anyway? They only caused heartache, and she had no time, schoolwork was far more important than a silly teenage crush.
At least, that's what she had always felt - until now.
The next day, Hermione was wearing a plain blue top; it was clean and smart, carefully ironed, but loose and unflattering. As though suddenly seeing through different eyes, she saw how all the girls wore fashionable clothes, fitted, tight tops and short skirts, baggy jeans or tailored trousers. Hermione felt self-conscious of her hair- it was carefully scraped back into a low ponytail, with a plain black hair-band. Everyone had loose hair, either long and layered or short in the latest style.
The rest of the day she was very quiet, and Harry noticed, but felt it was better not to say anything. But that night, almost in psyche with each other, they both started to feel guilty, and Hermione went into Harry and Ron's dorm room. Harry looked up.
"Hermione, I'm so sorry…"
"Harry, I feel terrible…"
They both spoke at the same time, and faltered. Then Harry grinned, and Hermione started to giggle. They both started to laugh, and Hermione bounced into Harry's arms. "Let's forget it ever happened?" suggested Harry, and squeezed Hermione in a hug as she agreed.
Hermione was in a good mood due to this for the whole of the rest of the week. But she was still unhappy about her appearance and her unpopularity with the other girls.
By next Friday, Hermione had plucked up the courage to ask Lavender Brown- a Gryffindor girl in her year, for some advice. But Lavender, who could never stop at giving advice, had to go the whole distance.
"Come with me, she said cryptically, and Hermione followed her, slightly bemused, into Lavender's dorm room, which was luckily empty.
"Let's do a makeover!!" she said excitedly.
Hermione stared at her in horror for a split second, and then said, "Oh…. that's really very kind…but I don't think…well…."
She stopped, for once flailing for the best way to express herself. Eventually Lavender managed to persuade her, and Hermione left for her room later, feeling better, but also apprehensive. She and Lavender agreed to meet early evening, the next day. Incidentally, the next evening was also the Hogwart's ball, when all the students brought a boyfriend or girlfriend with them, either someone from another wizarding school, or another Hogwart's pupil. Lavender was determined to make Hermione look gorgeous in time for it. Hermione had no plans to go, and had no idea that Lavender was going to make her. She slipped into sleep in blissful ignorance.
Also that night, Harry and Ron were in their dorm, still awake well into the night. The others were dreaming in their room, Seamus occasionally letting out snores.
Harry was going to the ball the next day; with Cho Chang, his long-term girlfriend. They had been going out over a year. Ron, however, was not.
"You're really lucky Harry," he moaned in the darkness. "No girl will ever want to go out with me. Look at this hair! And my dress-robe… well." He pulled idly at his flame red mop, to show Harry, forgetting they couldn't see each other in the pale moonlight. But Harry understood.
"Stop worrying, Ron. I'm sure there's a girl right under you're nose who would be great for you."
Harry had no idea his words, truthfully made-up on the spot to comfort Ron, could come true, so soon.
*
At seven the next evening, Hermione walked unsteadily from Lavender's room, and rushed to her own room, and quickly locked the door. She moved slowly to face the full-length mirror, and what she saw brought prickles of tears to her eyes. Lavender had washed Hermione's hair with a shampoo for shine, and had subtly highlighted it blonde, so her hair shone in the light, and looked less mud brown, than sun-kissed gold. It had the texture of spun silk, and the colour of caramel, cinnamon, and demerara sugar. She then trimmed off two inches of hair, and feathered the front, so that the hair framed Hermione's heart shaped face. She brushed the previously blocky fringe into two, parting it along with the rest of Hermione's centre parting. Her fringe now carried on with the rest of the feathering at the front, and was far more flattering. Lavender blow dried the hair straight, and clipped a tiny blue flower into the side of Hermione's hair. Lavender had expertly applied concealer to her face, to even out the skin tone, and brushed rose pink blusher onto the apples of her cheeks. Subtle silver-blue eyeshadow had been put on her eyelids, and a touch of pale pink lip-gloss finished the look.
She ran back to Lavender's room, and threw her arms around the girl. "This is fantastic! I can't believe it…!"
Lavender pushed her off though. "Stoppit! You RUIN your hair! All my hard work!"
"Now then," she continued. You have to go to the ball tonight, do you have anything to wear? Have you…"
Hermione looked taken aback. "I can't go to the ball!" she exclaimed. "I've got nothing to wear, no idea how to dance… No one would want to… go with me" she muttered humbly.
"Firstly, I have plenty of dresses you can borrow. Secondly, everyone can dance, it just comes naturally. Thirdly, there is someone who wants to take you to the ball." Lavender broke off, and turned and pointed to the doorway. There stood Ron, looking a mite uncomfortable in black tie, with Harry and Cho Chang standing a little distance away.
Ron cleared his throat, and looked up and down Hermione. "You look…so different Hermione. I would love it if you would accompany me to the ball." he said, with prompting from Harry.
Hermione grinned. "Let me get dressed first!" she said.
*
Hermione was browsing through Lavender's extensive wardrobe. "Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked for the millionth time. "All these robes are so pretty, I'd feel odd borrowing one…"
"Hermione," said Lavender, "That's what friends are for."
She eventually chose a plain purple robe. Putting on some of Lavender's strappy black shoes, with high heels, she said;
"What do you think?" doing a twirl, in front of the mirror.
Lavender was putting the finishing touches to her make-up, and tapped a clip in her hair, so that the silver dragonfly came alive, and it's iridescent wings fluttered in her dark hair. She turned and looked critically at Hermione.
"Look, that's practically daywear! Have you never been to a ball before?!" she said the last part jokily, and saw in amazement, as Hermione shook her head shamefully.
"Right." Lavender faltered, and stepped towards her wardrobe. She flicked through, and pulled out a deep cherry pink gown made of silk taffeta. It was full-length, and had medieval-style sleeves. The skirt of the robe flared out, and the waist was nipped in, purposefully made to show off the figure. Hermione backed away instinctively.
"I…I can't wear that, it's just not me, I'm afraid." But Lavender forced her to try it on, and it was as though the dress had been designed for Hermione. The colour, the shape, the style, everything was perfect.
"You look fabulous!" said Lavender, almost reverently. "I wish I looked that good in it!"
Hermione stepped out into the hall between the dorms, slightly shakily from the high heels. Lavender tripped ahead of her, and ran to the boy's dorm. "Ron!" she called to him. "You date is ready for you now!"
Ron stepped out, and looked around until he spotted Hermione. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. For once, Ron was speechless.
The ball started at eight thirty, and at that time, Ron and Hermione, and Harry and Cho, descended the stairs to the Great Hall, which had been temporarily turned into a dance floor, beautifully decorated with banners and flowers, and enchanted lanterns that flashed different colours. The ceiling showed a starry night, and there were silver and gold streamers linked across the hall. It looked spectacular. Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins were in charge of the music, something that Professor McGonagall had not been too sure about, but for once, they weren't acting up.
Cho was wearing a slimline ankle length midnight blue robe, and a tiara of dark blue jewels. Hermione looked around, and saw that she would have been underdressed in the purple cotton robe. Se felt relieved that she was in the beautiful red robe.
The teachers had tactfully removed themselves for the evening, though under the ever-worrying eye of Professor McGonagall, a button had been installed to press if there was an accident, to call the teachers.
Hermione and Ron started to slow dance. Lavender had been right, it did come naturally. You swayed to the beat, and looked elegant. Hermione found herself looking quite at home, and felt incredulous.
"You look… beautiful, Hermione," said Ron.
Hermione blushed. "You look pretty good yourself!" she said, glancing around. All the boys were wearing black tie –dark coloured robes with starched white shirts underneath. The girls were a blaze of different colours; all the different colours under the sun were there, in the many dress-robes. Lavender passed by with her date, on the way to get a drink from the punchbowl, and winked at Hermione. She finally felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. Lavender liked her, she realised suddenly, recalling Lavender's words earlier that evening. "That's what friends are for…"
Hermione felt a sudden inner glow. She smiled at Ron, and he smiled back.
Later, as the evening was drawing to a close, Ron said, "You look so lovely tonight, Hermione. My Lady in Red."
And before Hermione could react, he bent down and kissed her softly on the lips. Hermione walked back to her dorm on winged feet.