"What color dress will you wear, Gin?" Lavender prodded, carefully polishing the younger girl's toes. Ginny popped a biscuit into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Not sure. My mother says my Color is pink, but I don't know if it's true, or if she just says that because I'm the only girl out of seven." Lavender affirmed with a sympathetic noise.
Hermione tried harder to focus on her book – the Goblin Rebellion of 1452 was a deceptively interesting topic, no matter how much guff she got from Ron. Speak of the devil. "Hey, Hermione." Ron plopped down next to her miserably. "Hello, Ronald," She replied, with a small smile. "I am exhausted, Mione. Up all night last night, what with Harry and his nightmares. And then I can't find a girl to go to the ball with me," he whined. "Well, Ronald, I don't see why it's so hard. After all, you are such a catch." Hermione's voice dripped with sarcasm, and Ron rolled his eyes before resuming his act of self-pity. "Hermione. Just help me!" "What do you suggest I do, talk to a girl for you? Secure you a date?" Ron perked up. "That'd be brilliant!" She stared at him for a moment, wondering how she possibly had fleeting feelings for such an… "Idiot," she murmured, burying her nose back in her book.
She had expected Ron, or at the very least, Harry, to ask her. Not as a date, necessarily, but seeing as neither was attached (Cho Chang had already turned Harry down), and didn't have anyone of interest looking to go, she figured one of the boys would invite her.
But NO, they both sulked pathetically about their bad luck in not acquiring a date. Hermione had had it with the old mopes.
"SO Ronnikins … no yule ball date yet?" Fred stole the spot next to his brother, George following. Before Ron could continue his incessant winging, Hermione jumped up. "Oh for the love of … STOP TALKING ABOUT THE BLOODY YULE BALL!" Her cheeks heated as the entirety of the common room stared at her. She rolled her eyes, groaning, and made her way out of the portrait hole.
Everyone was talking about it, everywhere. For once, Potions was her favorite part of the day, for the mere fact that Professor Snape seemed to be the only other human in the castle who wasn't obsessed with the sodding ball. She sighed, relishing in the cool stone of the hall as she leaned out the window nearest the common room. She took in a breath of frosty air, her heart calming.
The portrait hole opened, and considering Ron was the last person with whom she was speaking, she expected him to be the one to come out. She was surprised to see George. He bumped her hip lightly, and she budged over, making room for him at the sill. "You alright, gorgeous?" He was the only one allowed to call her that. She knew he wasn't serious – she was nowhere near gorgeous – so she wasn't flattered, but she appreciated the sentiment. "Yes, I suppose. I just want this dance to be over. It's all anyone ever speaks of, and … I just want it to be over." She put her head in her hands. He waited for a beat. "So Hermione, do you have a date for the Yule Ball?" "Oh, Gods, not you too." She began to walk away, frustrated almost to tears. "…Because I would love it if you would be my date."
"Don't do me any favors," she muttered, turning back around. "Excuse me?" George, for once had to quicken his pace to catch up with the angry witch. "It would be you who is doing me the favor." She stopped. "Oh yes? How so?" Hermione had her arms crossed across her chest, and he could practically see the angry sparks jumping off her mad curls. "It would be my pleasure to attend the ball with the most beautiful witch at Hogwarts." Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "Come on George, you're sweet and all, but I am in no way the most beautiful witch at Hogwarts. Thanks anyway, but I am no one's last resort." She continued her walk, holding back tears. "Who said you were my last resort?" It was quietly asked, but Hermione heard it. She turned to look at the twin curiously. "You have those lovely brown eyes, and crazy, lovely mad hair, and you don't have to wear any makeup to be the most beautiful girl in the room."
Although she tried desperately to prevent them, her lips turned up very slightly. He stepped toward her. "You're smart and funny, and you are willing to break the rules for the greater good…" She looked down as the smile grew wider. "… and … you smell wicked good!" She chuckled, and he grinned as she looked up at him. "Please, Hermione." The grin was gone, and he looked so vulnerable with his inquiring eyes. "Okay," she whispered. "Brilliant!" He picked her up, and spun her around, kissing the top of her head. "Will you come back in the common room with me?" She nodded and he grasped his hand.
The whole of the room was staring as they came back in, making Hermione want to disappear all over again. "She said yes!" George exclaimed. To Hermione's surprise, there was a smattering of applause. Fred scooted on the couch to make room for the two, Hermione in between the twins. "George has been going mad, he thought you would say no," Fred whispered to her. Hermione glanced at George curiously, his cheeks flushing.
He had been trying to get her alone, to no avail. His damn brother and the blasted Harry Potter monopolized her time to a maddening degree. He wondered absently whether she was bothered by it. At least Fred knew when to sod off when he wanted to be alone with a girl.
He settled down in the library with a potions tome and waited. Finally, Hermione made an appearance. "Hello, Gorgeous," he said quietly. She blushed prettily. "Hello, Georgie. What are you doing here?" "Can't a man research advanced potions without being interrogated?" She smirked. "Don't let me stop you then," She replied, pulling out her textbooks and plopping them on his table. "I did actually have a question for you. Do you have a date to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Hermione shook her head, stunned. He had asked her to the ball, and now he was asking for a date? "Wonderful, would you like to … go with me?" She contemplated. "I mean, I have to go dress shopping with Ginny, but afterward… I don't see why not. Yes, I'd like that."
Hermione had a productive day in Hogsmeade – her dress was purchased, along with a lovely set of earrings and a matching necklace, and a pretty pair of shoes. After the girls were done shopping, they met up with their group for lunch at the leaky cauldron. When everyone started to break into groups, she and George said goodbye to the others, and he allowed her to lead him to Tomes and Scrolls. She planned to make the trip a quick one – no other friends enjoyed the bookshop as she did – however, when she stumbled upon her date, he was curled in a large armchair, his nose in an adventure novel. She pulled from her stack of recent purchases and he made room for her. "One more chapter and we can head out," he murmured. "Take your time," she replied, her eyebrows practically to her hairline in surprise. He put his arm across the back of the chair, and she accepted the silent invitation nestling into his side. It took a bit of effort, due to the witch's proximity, but he managed to finish his chapter. He tucked the book into his jacket and nudged his date. "Care for a walk?" She finished up and nodded.
George bought them each a cup of hot chocolate from Florean Fortescue's, and they meandered through the village. "I didn't know you liked to read," she stated, sipping her drink. He nodded. "I think everyone would enjoy reading if they find the right book." She nodded emphatically in agreement. "I say that all the time! The boys just wave me off." "Well they're a bunch of numpties, aren't they?" Hermione giggled. "That, they are!"
They spoke for a good hour, the conversation flowing more naturally than either of them expected. Eventually, they found themselves at the gate, and not wanting their date to end, both slowed their pace to the castle. Hermione was mid-sentence when she noticed her partner no longer at her side. "George?" Just as she turned around, she got a snowball in the face. "Hey!" She spluttered. George grinned at her and took off running. She grabbed a chunk of snow and hurled it at the boy, covering his hair with powder. "Good shot, Granger!" He laughed, throwing a snowball blindly behind him. She dodged it, trying to get closer to him. She had an idea. She fell back in the snow and groaned dramatically. "Hermione?" George turned around as she was standing up, looking put out. He made his way to her curiously. "Are you alright?" She grinned suddenly, nailing him in the chest with a perfectly packed ball of snow. "Hey!" He lunged at her, the pair toppling over giggling. They lay side by side, and he reached over to wipe a bit of slush from her cheek. "Hey yourself," she replied. She reached up, timidly planting a kiss on his surprised mouth.