Potions class was hell. Snape was even harsher than usual, and Ron would have detention the next day. Thankfully, even he couldn't give detention on the day of the ball.

Sitting in class, she imagined the snow that had been falling when she had left for class. She pictured the gentle flakes falling over the campus and longed at least for a window.

Finally they were released and she, Harry, and Hermione raced back to the tower to get their coats.

"Hey, Ron," Hermione said as she pulled on her jacket, "did you ever get around to finding a dress?"

"Er… I think so. But I didn't have time to try it on." Hermione snorted, and the three left the common room, went downstairs, and left the castle.

Fred and George were having a snowball fight. "Mind if we join?" Ron asked, running up to them.

Fred looked her over. "Sure," he said somewhat reluctantly. Hermione opted to sit out, but Ron and Harry started gathering up snowballs to join the fray.

When Ron's perfectly-aimed snowball hit the back of Fred's head, he spun around, grinning, to retaliate. But when he saw her, he stopped and threw at George instead. She frowned.

After this had happened several times with all three of the boys, Ron was getting frustrated. Couldn't they give it a rest? Taking careful aim, she hurled a snowball at George, generally the least excluding of the three. It hit the back of his neck and dripped down inside his coat. She was him react, trying to get rid of the chilling ice to no avail.

"Okay, that's it!" she heard him exclaim. He spun around and chucked a snowball at her.

Shrieking with joy, she dodged it and threw one at Harry. Soon all four of them were sending snowballs flying across the courtyard.

Hermione announced she was going inside, and Ron stopped running to give her an odd look. "But the ball—HEY!" she yelled as a snowball hit the side of her head. "But the ball doesn't start for three hours!"

Hermione nodded. "I know. I'm going to get ready." She eyed Ron's crazy hair and the snowflakes settled in it. "You should, too."

"I've got three hours!"

"Your choice," Hermione said with a shrug.

"But what are you going to do in three hours?" Ron asked, incredulous. How could anyone, much less Hermione, stand putting on makeup for three long hours?

"You'll see," Hermione replied, eyes twinkling.

"Whatever you say," Ron muttered as she left, and then turned back to the snowball fight.

For another hour, the four flung snow at each other until they were exhausted, when they trooped back to the common room and sat down by the fire.

"We should probably get dressed," Harry commented, and somehow she knew the remark was directed at her.

"Fine," she sighed, standing up resignedly, and went up to the girls' dorms.

She took a quick shower and, fetching her wand, muttered a spell to instantly dry her long red curls. Now to see about that dress.

She pulled the dress out of her trunk. If this didn't fit, she would have to wear the one Mum had sent. She shuddered at the thought of the disgusting, musty brown thing with the battered lace at the neck and wrists. Not exactly becoming.

Crossing her fingers, she slipped the blue dress over her head. It seemed to fit alright, considering the difference in build between her and Hermione. That was surprising.

She walked over to the mirror to take a look. Oh, no. This would never do.