-1((A/N: Hermione is actually 17. She turns eighteen on September 13. I said she was 16))

Of Dresses and First Impressions

She pulled the bags closed, utterly embarrassed. "I forgot to get something when I was in the Alley. Now I have to get back, but it seems I've gotten lost. I've already passed that shop four times." She pointed to the one he had stuck his tongue out at.

"Well then," he started. "Let me accompany you."

12 p.m.

Tonks (formally Malfoy) Manor in Wiltshire

Andromeda Tonks, formerly a Black, was a sensible woman. She knew her place in the world, and she knew where her family stood in the eyes of the people around her. The Black family name was shrouded in intrigue, pain and deceit, and Narcissa's marriage to the late Lucius Malfoy had only complicated matters.

Besides being shackled with a fortune she didn't have the slightest idea how to manage, Andromeda and her husband had been given the Malfoy heir—her nephew. Draco Lucius Malfoy, besides being handsome and intelligent, had a beautiful soul, but his childhood had been harsh and unforgiving. Hatred had been thrust upon him at a young age and, even with his death-eater parents dead and gone, the hatred still shrouded his angelic soul in a deep darkness.

Andromeda's daughter, Nymphadora, had always been a carefree girl. But, despite her mischievous nature, she was brilliantly gifted. Intelligence poured from her work in school and she was a dedicated student. But none of this came to compare with her cousin's insatiable curiosity and unnatural brilliance.

Nymphadora had one thing Draco did not, though—she had social brilliance as well. Draco was a lonely boy—one who cowered from social situations—but he always stood his ground against those who harmed him. It was complicated. He was a natural leader, but he refused to let anyone near his heart. He led with a blind confidence, but without any true emotion.

This was why Andromeda nearly fainted when Draco came bursting through the door singing, with a skip in his step. "Aunt Andromeda!" He called, tossing himself into an armchair. "I've just had the best day of my life!"

Andromeda quickly rushed into the room, tugging on her unfinished braid of silver-streaked ebony hair. "What happened, Draco?"

"I've met a girl---a wonderful, spectacular, magical girl!" His eyes brightened, turning the dark grey to a shining silver-blue. "And she's a transfer to Hogwarts, as well."

Nymphadora took this sentence as her cue to enter. Her hair was a flaming orange today. "Wotcher, cousin." She greeted, throwing herself into an armchair. She was seven years older than Draco, and the slight laugh lines around her mouth gave that away. Besides that, Nymphadora could pass as a 16 year old. "Would you mind repeating that? You said you met a girl?"

Draco gave an impatient sigh. "Yes, Tonks, I did." Andromeda tutted at him for the use of the nickname. He merely smirked, as her always did. "Her name is Hermione Granger—from Ireland. She transferred from the Wizarding Academy there. She's the top student in her class and a good athlete too—though she's deathly afraid of heights. She also happens to be the most beautiful girl I have ever met."

Tonks' hair turned to a vibrant pink as her mind whirled. Her cousin had found his first Lady Love! She grinned at the idea. "Spectacular, Draco! You should invite her over for the next holiday!"

Andromeda shot a sharp glare at her daughter. "Aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves, Nymphadora?" Her daughter's hair retreated to a dull orange at her discomfort.

Andromeda flashed a devilish grin. "I think that the best thing to do is for you two to become friends first, Draco. If she's still your leading lady come Christmas, she's welcome to come. We're having the annual ball and I would be happy to give her all of the money she wants so she can find her dream dress." She turned her piercing gaze to Draco. "That is—if you behave, Draco Malfoy."

Draco gulped rather loudly and scooted farther back on the couch and away from his Aunt. "Yes, Aunt Andromeda."

"Good." She smoothed her gown. "Now—I must find that husband of mine so he can get ready for our trip to the train. You're going off to your seventh year—this should be the most spectacular yet." Then, in a flurry of skirts, Andromeda left the room. Draco could faintly hear her bellowing for Ted, her muggle husband, after the door slammed shut.

He sighed and stood from the couch. "Coming, Tonks?" He queried, extending his hand. She grumbled about spoiled gentlemen before taking it. "A spoiled gentleman, cousin? Now that's one I've never heard."

Her only response was to jab him in his ribs and apparate away. He growled and then, he too, exited the room, his silver cloak billowing behind him. Leave it to Tonks to spoil his good mood.

12:30 p.m.

London

After leaving Draco at his estate, Hermione had ran all the way back to the train. She couldn't even remember why she had offered to accompany him back home, seeing as he lived in the countryside—in Wiltshire. Now she was going to be late to pick up her new dress from Madame Malkin's.

It was a beautiful dress—white and strapless with a tapered waist, embroidered with roses and a knee-length skirt that was loose around her legs—and she had bought white cork heels to accompany it.

A pen pal of hers—one who called herself "The Phoenix Feather"-had told her of her need for a dress. When inquiring why, she had merely said that there was to be an opening ball, in honor of the victory of the Order of the Phoenix the year before.

It was a masquerade, semi-formal ordeal, which is why Hermione had chosen the shorter length and simpler design for her outfit. Her mask was a the same white and had embroidered white roses on it and came with two matching white gold chopsticks for her hair. She was thrilled about the entire ensemble.

Now, standing in front of Madame Malkin's, nervousness had beguiled her senses. She didn't know if her outfit was formal enough—or too formal. She fingered her eternity pendant around her neck, before mustering up enough courage to enter. Madame Malkin's assistant—his tag said Antony—immediately migrated in her direction.

"Oh, darling, you must be the one." He crooned. In her mind she laughed. This man was a poof, and not a shy one at that. But, she admitted to herself, they do give the best fashion advice.

"The one?" she asked, innocently. He grinned, showing off a beautiful set of pearly whites. Her parents would have been proud. They had been exceptional dentists, before the accident last year.

"The one that ordered the white ensemble with the beautiful lace! You will look positively stunning!" He waved a hand in front of his face in a fanning motion. "I wish I had your figure."

Before Hermione could comment, Madame Malkin greeted her. "Hermione, dear, how good of you to be early. It saves time." Hermione flushed. She had been early, despite the unpleasant gnawing that had screamed she was late.

"I wanted to gather my dress as soon as possible. I also have to run and pick up my new cat from the Magical Menagerie."

"Good, good…" Malkin muttered, as she flitted around the shop, straightening the rows shelves. "Antony, go and fetch me Miss Hermione's parcel." He looked reluctant to leave. "Now, before I fire you."

He yelped as if wounded and hurried away into the backroom. Hermione stifled a rude, girlish, giggle as she watched him go. Madame Malkin looked as if she were doing the same. "He is….nice." Hermione began.

Madame Malkin nodded once. "He is one of the best, they say. Hired him right under little Twillfit's nose. Antony brings in loads of business, especially from the pureblood socialites. Why, just last week we had a visit from Andromeda Tonks and her young nephew, Draco. They were picking out his dress robes for the year." She laughed lightly. "I think that boy walked out with four pair."

Hermione smiled, picturing her new friend loaded down with parcels or clothing. "I know him, actually, and I could picture him doing just that."

Madame Malkin suddenly resembled a heart-attack victim. "You know him, dear?" She put a hand to her breast.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "Is that a problem?" She fiddled with her ring again, in nervousness. Madame Malkin smiled warmly at her.

"No, dear, but it's rather surprising. That boy was tortured as a child and doesn't make friends with anyone. Andromeda and Ted saved him years ago, but he's still scarred."

Hermione was puzzled. "He was very open with me."

Madame Malkin's eyes danced. "Then you've got a chance, dear."

"A chance for what?"

"To heal him." She touched Hermione's face. "He sees something in you--something beautiful; something great—and you need to cling to that. It's good for the both of you."

"Something beautiful," Hermione murmured. How could he see something beautiful in her? She was a bookworm from Ireland—with brown curls that frizzed and a less-than-perfect physique. What could he see that she couldn't?

"Yes, dear." Her eyes followed Antony as he reentered the room. He was cradling her parcel and several others. Hermione's mouth gaped.

He strutted up to her and handed them into her open arms. "This," he pointed to one of the unknown boxes, "is make-up from Paris. This," he pointed to another one, "is hair-straightening oil and the charm for it. This," he pointed to the final unknown box, "is a special gift for you." She reached for it to open it. He slapped her hand in annoyance.

"Do not open it until the night of the dance, darling. It has a magical quality that only responds the first time the box is opened." Her eyebrows raised. He chuckled. "It will point out your perfect match, but only when you dance with him. After one day, the charm will die." He tilted her chin. "Good luck."

Then Antony disappeared again, leaving Hermione alone to pay for the various parcels. "How much?" she inquired.

"The same as we agreed on." Hermione gasped. "I cannot ask you to pay for these, dear. They are gifts from Antony. For you."

Hermione handed her the correct number of galleons then, before exiting the shop. Somehow, the beauty Draco had seen seemed a little more apparent now.

4:00 p.m.

The Train Station

Hermione was in a panic. She had absolutely no idea how to get onto Platform 9 and ¾. She was currently standing in the middle of platforms nine and ten and she still hadn't seen anyone but 20 or 30 muggles, all in various stages or urgency. Her grandmother had sent her with money and then had disappeared to care for her parents. My parents, she thought, exasperated. How are they?

In the year of the Light uprising, her parents had sheltered anyone that asked in Ireland; it had been an easy decision. She was the most intelligent witch of her age; thus, various respectable leaders had asked her to do research for them. This made Hermione a target -- and a hero. But Hermione had never suspected that her parents would become even bigger targets. They had been cursed, horridly, and were currently in extensive care at St. Mungo's. She doubted they'd even survive. So, in light of her parent's condition, her grandmother, Lynn, had taken her and her brother in.

Her grandmother was a witch, which was where Hermione had inherited her powers, apparently. But she was nowhere near as powerful as her granddaughter. Hermione found, more often than not, that she could manipulate objects and cast simple spells without her wand and without any magical discharge. Also, her memory was nearly photographic, giving her an advantage in almost every class. Every class except divination. Divination was guess-work, mostly, as was most of astronomy. She had never had interest in either of the subjects. Her loves were Ancient Runes, which required a lot of thinking, transfiguration--she had already mastered the animagi skill--and potions.

Deep in thought, Hermione had not noticed that she had been approached until he spoke to her. "Excuse me," the brown haired boy said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Are you lost?" A man with stubble and piercing eyes stood behind the boy. She recognized him instantly. He was Sirius Black--which made this boy in front of her Harry Potter. She mentally wailed.

"No," she said plainly, turning away from him. He, apparently, was not used to this reaction. He tapped her cardigan-covered shoulder.

"No need to be rude. Do you even know who I am?" He glowered at her, his emerald eyes alight with indignation.

"Harry James Potter, savior to the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. And a very pompous boy because of it." She turned her chocolate gaze back to him. "And the man behind you is Sirius Black, one of the most powerful wizards of the previous generations and your godfather." She blinked once, and then pursed her lips, as if daring him to challenge her. "And how did you know I wasn't a muggle? You could have given a poor unsuspecting teenager a heart attack."

He flushed. "Not very many muggles stand directly in between platforms nine and ten." He flashed an almost predatory grin. "So," he began, "who might you be?" He quirked an eyebrow. She grimaced.

"Hermione Jane Granger, the most intelligent witch of our generation. I helped you finish your previous job, Mr. Potter. I was the Irish woman that sent the information for the final three horcruxes, and it would do you good to stop flirting so openly with me. It's ghastly behavior for a 17 year old." Sirius snorted and placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. The younger boy's smile faded to a small sneer.

"So sorry to disturb you." He reached out his hand and she took it, smiling for the first time. His eyes gained their spark back. He shook her hand gently and then placed a kiss on her knuckles. She scowled.

"Now don't get ahead of yourself, Harry." She whispered. He nodded vigorously and grabbed her trunk, throwing it on his cart. "Now, where is this platform I'm looking for." He smiled and then, smiling, he ran right through the wall to her right, never missing a step or dropping their trunks. Sirius strutted after him, beckoning her to follow. She did, but she didn't notice the pair of silver-blue eyes watching after her.

Draco Malfoy stood 10 feet away from the platform, clutching, white-knuckled, to his trunk. Harry Bloody Potter had just spirited Hermione away into the land of gits. He scowled and proceeded onto the platform.

Andromeda and Ted waved goodbye and Tonks magicked some money into his wallet and a note that merely said: "Wotcher, cousin." His family loved him, that was sure, but they were the only ones. Hermione would never speak to him again if Harry filled her head with lies about him. He could be quite imaginative when provoked. He absently fingered the necklace box in his pocket. He had wanted to give this to her tonight--at the ball--but now his hopes were being squashed by an annoying, spoiled boy with ugly glasses. He scowled and walked faster, intent on catching up to them.

He did so, right before the boarded the train. He didn't speak, however, because they were having an interesting conversation. Hermione was actually turning down Wonder Boy's advances.

"Harry, stop pressuring me. I'm perfectly fine to find my own compartment. Besides, you need to meet your friends and I need to meet mine." Harry's gaze hardened.

"Your friends?" He queried, setting her trunk on the ground. The orange cat in her arms hissed angrily, swiping at any part of Harry it could reach. He dodged, receiving a few scratches as payment.

"Yes," she answered, glowering at him. "I have two here, thank you. Don't presume that you're the first person I've met here, Harry Potter." She spat, grabbing her trunk.

"Who are they?" He growled.

"Ginny Weasley," she answered. Draco grinned broadly. Ginny was his Blaise's girlfriend of almost three years. Hermione must have been her mysterious Irish pen pal. Harry only nodded once, acknowledging that he approved. He had to approve--Ginny was his best friend's sister.

"That it?" He ground out, his eyes searching hers for deceit. She merely lifted her chin and crackled her knuckles. She replied, quite proudly: "Draco Malfoy." Harry's eyes hardened and his mouth twitched. Hermione didn't back down.

"You're friends with Malfoy?" He spat, venom coating his choice words. She nodded proudly and turned on her heel, entering the train, leaving a fuming Harry behind her. Harry entered after her and Draco followed behind, careful not to draw attention to himself. He saw Hermione enter an empty compartment and moved to join her. But, his gentlemanly instincts kicking into full gear, he decided to track down Blaise and Ginny first and bring them with him.

He found them a few doors down, snogging furiously. He coughed loudly, getting Blaise's attention. Ginny looked up a few seconds later. Her eyes flashed in brief fury before she recognized him. Then she smiled. "Draco! How nice to see you!" She squealed, scooting over so Blaise could stand. He strutted to where Draco stood.

"Need something?" The black boy asked, smiling. Draco grinned in response and extended his hand. Blaise pulled him into a manly embrace, with only their right shoulders and arms touching and then let go.

"I want you two to move compartments. I have someone I want you to meet." Both of their eyebrows raised. Draco looked down at his feet, blushing furiously. "I think she may be the one."

Expecting them to laugh, Draco was surprised when Ginny embraced him fiercely, nearly crying. "Finally!" She cried, hugging him to her. Blaise snickered, but patted Draco on the back, proudly.

"Good job." When Ginny finally let go, Blaise continued. "Who is she? Anyone we know?" His gaze was friendly but calculating.

"You won't know her, Blaise, but Ginny will." He replied.

Ginny squealed, assaulting his eardrums with a painful abrasion of sound. He winced. "Who is she, Draco?!" She nearly bounced in excitement.

"Hermione Granger--your Irish pen pal."

Ginny nearly fainted and had to hold Draco in order to stay upright. "The Hermione Granger? I've been talking to her this entire time?" Draco chocked on air as Ginny paced around the compartment.

"Gin, you didn't know who you were talking to?"

She nodded her head in the negative. "We had nicknames, promising to reveal our true identities tonight at the ball. She called herself "The Irish Bookworm" and I called myself "The Phoenix Feather." She pointed to her flaming red hair. "It fit."

Draco laughed lightly before exiting the compartment, dragging his trunk. Like he knew they would, Blaise and Ginny followed him, dragging their own trunks along. When they reached Hermione's compartment, he wasn't surprised to see Harry Potter and Ron Weasley--and his girlfriend, Lavender--occupying it and arguing with her.

He pushed the down open, roughly and, after shrinking his trunk to pocket-size, sat down right next to Hermione. Ginny and Blaise followed his example and did the same--Blaise sitting next to him and Ginny pushing her brother out of the way to sit directly across from Hermione.

Hermione looked up and immediately smiled. "Draco!" She cried, hugging him to her. He returned the embrace but did not take his eyes off of Harry and Ron. But, the two boys were too busy tormenting Blaise and Ginny to take notice of his silent studying. He growled deep in his throat and removed himself from Hermione's grip.

"Potter, Weasel, stop bugging my friends." He looked pointedly at Hermione. "All of them." They took this as a threat and drew their wands; but Hermione was faster. Before they had even drawn them completely, she had flipped out hers and cast an "expelliarmus" on both of them. Her grin was one of triumph.

Her Irish accent flowed freely as she spoke. "Both of you," she looked at Harry and Ron, "better leave this compartment or I will have to hex off an important, but not vital, piece of your male anatomy. And I will not use a painless charm." They both paled and nodded.

She threw them their wands and opened the compartment door. "Good-day, boys. I'll be seeing you!" She called after them, smile still plastered on her face. Then she turned to her other visitors. "Draco," she said, but tripped over the other two. "And?"

Ginny spoke first. "Ginny Weasley." Hermione's smile never faulted. "Also known as "The Phoenix Feather" to you." She finished, and Hermione's smile grew in size and her eyes blazed.

Speaking of "Blazes", Blaise spoke next. "Blaise Zabini--best friend to Draco and girlfriend of Ginny here." Hermione beamed at him as well.

Draco grinned as well. "Aren't we just one happy family."

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R & R

-Darkness-