Hermione wants an arm to go to the dance on. Harry's got an arm. What should come of this predicament?
I own nothing, and I'm not making any money from this. Please don't sue.
It was a cold, crisp January weekend, and it was no ordinary weekend. No, it was a Hogsmeade weekend. And this Hogsmeade weekend had some special element to it, because it happened to be one week before the Hogwarts Winter Ball. A group of Gryffindors stood huddled together in front of the Three Broomsticks, three boys and three girls. One of the girls, a redhead, was exceptionally bubbly.
"I'm going to go to Madame Malkin's, and look for some dress robes. Maybe blue, about this long-" she motioned to Lavender, who stood next to her. Lavender nodded in approval.
"You have to look good, with Deeeean here," she nudged. Ginny blushed, and she turned, grabbing Lavender's arm toward Madame Malkin's.
"No offense to them, but honestly, I'm glad they're gone... I should know better than to go shopping with those two around. So girly... sorry Hermione," said Ron. "You aren't the same as them. They are just too frilly- hey, Dean, do you think Lavender would go to the ball with me?"
Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes and hid a giggle and a chuckle, respectively. Their other best friend could just be so strange sometimes. Dean, however, didn't appear to see the humor.
"Yeah, I think Lavender might go with you. I could think of ways to convince her. Want to join me for a butterbeer to think?" He looked at Ron, a crazy grin on his face. Ron, ready to try any evil plan of Dean's, as long as it ended with Ron and Lavender together, happily obliged.
And with that, Harry and Hermione were left standing out in the cold.
"Well," ventured Harry, "that was strange. I feel abandoned."
Hermione grinned. "Abandoned? I'm not worth anything?"
He rolled his eyes again. "They are all really preoccupied about that ball. Something about Dumbledore moving it to February instead of it being a Yule Ball really got all of them interested."
"Maybe because it's near Valentine's Day now."
"I don't know. I was never really all that into it. So, Hermione, are you going to that ball? I didn't see you running after Ginny and Lavender to go get dress robes."
"Well," she looked down at her gloved hands. "I wanted to go, but I don't have anyone to go with. I don't know if I'm going."
"Why? You never had a problem with going alone before. You went alone last year and had a great time. The last time that you went with anyone was fourth year, and you've had a good time every year since, even without a date."
"I know," she said. "It's just that this is our last year, and I kind of don't want to be the wallflower. I just... this is going to sound so funny, but I want to be able to walk into the Great Hall on someone's arm."
"Oh," he said, for lack of anything better to say. After a pause, he looked at her. There was an odd look on her face, and he knew for a fact that it wasn't just the cold. "Hermione, is something else wrong? You have this look on your face like there's something wrong."
Hermione, deep in thought, snapped out of it at Harry's voice. "Huh?"
"Hermione, what's wrong?"
In her head, Hermione was replaying a phrase. It hadn't affected her then, but it did now. She sat down on a bench, and Harry followed.
"Harry, when Ron left, he said that Ginny and Lavender were really girly, and then he told me that I wasn't the same. What did he mean by that?"
Harry looked a little bit perplexed. "Well, I guess he meant that they are always really preoccupied with how they look that stuff. You aren't."
"I thought so." She sat quietly, looking down.
"What is it?"
"Guys like Ginny and Lavender. I just... hold on, why am I telling you this?" she looked down again.
"No, Hermione, you can tell me anything."
She laughed. "I know that, it's just... I can't talk to a guy about guys. Unless the guy I'm talking to shares my interest in them. Do you, Potter?"
"No," he said, also laughing.
"So how about you, you going to the dance?" she said, changing the subject.
"I might. I would go alone, but at the same time, it would be nice to be able to take a girl."
"So, do you have anyone in mind?"
"Really, I don't."
"What about Cho? You had some good times, didn't you?"
"Uh, no," he said. "Not really. She's not my type, and I'm not hers, as we found out last year. And I really don't have my eye on anybody at the moment. Flying solo. I'll find the one for me, though."
"Oh, yeah," she kidded. "Harry Potter, the ladies' man."
"Look who's talking," he ribbed. "Miss Hermione Granger, Miss Bookworm." He was chuckling, but she obviously didn't see the humor. She looked down again, and Harry, just like a typical guy, was being clueless again. "What is it, Hermione?"
She looked at him. He wouldn't understand, but she knew that if she didn't tell him, he'd keep bugging her. She got up, and motioned for Harry to follow. They had just seen Ron and Dean leave the pub, probably in search of Ginny and Lavender. Hermione, shivering, led Harry into the Three Broomsticks. If she was going to talk to him, she was going to do it properly. They sat down at a table in the corner, and peeled off their gloves, scarves, and hats. They were flushed from the cold, and hot cocoa appeared on the table as soon as they were settled.
"OK, Hermione, now are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"
"Do I have to?"
"Yes. I know that if you don't tell me now, you're gonna keep being all annoyed and you will avoid me to go and read, and with tests coming up, I can't afford that."
"See, that's the problem! Nobody sees me as anything but a study buddy. I have guy friends, but you all see me as a friend, not a girl." She was exasperated.
Harry was still puzzled. "But, you are our friend."
"I know that. It's just that sometime, I'd like a guy to want to go to a dance with me. I want a guy to tell me I'm beautiful. You and Ron are part of the problem... you tell me I'm not feminine and you make fun of my hair and the way I look. I want someone to see me as a beautiful girl. I want someone to ask me to the dance, and have me walk in on his arm. This is my last year, and I wanted the whole experience, you know, like that Muggle fairy tale Cinderella. But nobody could see themselves taking me. What's wrong with me?"
"Well..."
"What is it? Why does nobody think of me in that way? I'm fine with being single, I like it, but I'd like to know why it is that every other girl in our grade, including Myrtle, who isn't even alive, is found attractive by someone. I'm sick of just being the bookworm. Even when I get dressed up, nobody notices. So what is it that's wrong with me?"
Harry sat, slightly dumbfounded. This was one of those questions that had no right answer, not even an answer that you could possibly give in a way as to not get killed. He had no clue what to say. He had no idea that she even felt this way. Hermione was always self-confident. Why was this any different?
"Hermione, I, er, maybe I'm not the best one to ask. We're best friends, so I don't, well, see you in, er, that way. There isn't anything wrong with you." He knew that this was not a stellar answer, but he hoped it was enough that she would let him live. "Besides, you have a lot going for you. You don't need to worry. Someday, you'll find the man of your dreams."
She gave him a smile. He was Harry. And even when he really wasn't all that helpful, talking to him still made her feel better.
"You should go even if you don't have a date, though. You don't want to miss out on the experience, and besides, there will be a lot of people there. Maybe even Prince Charming. Minus the white horse, I don't picture you as the white-horse type."
She grinned at the imagery. "You're right. I guess I was being a little bit unreasonable. I'm going to go, I love dances. Maybe the opportunity will present itself for me to have a date, but if not, I'm just going to go enjoy myself. I'm going to go down to Madame Malkin's, maybe Ginny will help me pick out some dress robes."
"You should. See you later, I think I'll just stay here. Neville and Seamus are over there, I'm gonna go talk to them. Have fun doing whatever you women do at clothing stores! Honestly, for me, it's just walk in, find your size, and leave..."
She walked out again into the cold, smiling, and letting him trail on about women and their obsession with clothing, as she made her way to Madame Malkin's.
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To all of you who have read "Devotion": I promise that I will finish Devotion. It's a heavy story, and I needed a break from writing that line. Never fear, though, because I'm working on Chapter 8 for Devotion now.
Did you like this story? If I get five positive reviews, I'll continue this one, too. Please review!