Chapter 4: Buck Teeth and Balls
Professor Snape was yelling at them again. Or more specifically, poor Neville, barking at him a question pertaining to Flobberworm mucus. Flat-footed, Neville turned to a well honed instinct: looking to Hermione for help.
It worked all the better as an excuse to just gaze at her. In the two years since the Chamber of Secrets incident, Hermione had blossomed into a beautiful woman. She developed more voluptuous curves, her face had bloomed to be increasingly striking. Even her bushy mane of hair was more tamed, though all the more tempting for Neville to just run his fingers through...
"Mr. Longbottom! I cannot fathom how you find Ms. Granger to be so fascinating, but I asked you a question.
Even in the dim light of the dungeon, Neville thought he saw Hermione blushing. "Please, Professor, the origin of flobberworm mucus is extract of..."
"Mr. Longbottom is not a deaf mute, Ms. Granger! He does not need any help, especially from an insufferable know-it-all."
Though her eyes glowered, Hermione was snapped into silence. For his part, Neville's burning impulse to tell Snape off failed yet again, as it always did when confronted by his least favorite teacher. He tried to picture the Boggart of Snape from third year, dressed in his grandmother's clothes and hat, but it didn't help.
Draco decided to twist the knife after class by hexing Hermione's buck teeth so that they grew extra large. Neville came upon the Golden Trio to find Hermione bawling her eyes out into Ron's shoulder. "What happened?"
"Malfoy," Harry gnashed grimly. He flagged down the first Professor he saw, which just happened to be Professor Snape. "Professor, Hermione has to be taken to the hospital!"
"For a case of bruised ego? Hardly," Snape drolled. Neville's fists clenched, enough for Ron to notice and shoot him a sympathetic warning look. Though he was affronted himself.
"But Professor! Look what Malfoy did to her!" And he made Hermione show Snape her teeth.
Snape regarded it blankly. "I see no difference." Hermione gasped and then whimpered, her eyes welling up anew. Now, even Neville joined with his mates in telling Snape off, prompting the Potions Master to bellow that they all had detention. Harry volunteered to escort Hermione to Madame Pomfrey, and then retreated to the common room to wait with the others.
It came as a shock when Hermione returned later. "Hermione!" Ron stared. "What have you done to your teeth?"
Hermione's smile was distinctly different, more... beautiful, Neville noted, as she giggled at them. "Well, Madame Pomfrey shrunk my teeth and told me to signal her when to stop, and I just... let her go on longer."
Her buck teeth were gone. In their place was a straight, dazzling smile that made Neville's heart ectopically wobble. Yup. She was beautiful.
Neville's brow furrowed as he concentrated on adding just the right amount of Shining Potion from the squeeze tube. As he watched the petals of the red rose glisten in exactly the way the Herbology book said they were supposed to, he grinned triumphantly. It was ready! And not a moment too soon, either.
Ever since the Yule Ball had been announced after the completion of the Second Task, Neville Longbottom had decided to gather the Gryffindor courage he knew had to be within him somewhere. Helping Harry Potter successfully navigate the Black Lake with Gillyweed had only served to boost his confidence, to finally approach the secret object of his affection and ask a question.
Neville had secretly had a crush on Hermione Granger for years. She had always helped him with the subjects he struggled in (Potions and Professor Snape being his largest hurdle by far, and Herbology the one exception). She was intelligent, the best in their fourth year. And, at the end of this summer, Neville had noticed she had blossomed into an even more attractive witch. Developed more womanly curves. He knew if he wanted her to be his date to the Yule Ball, he would have to move fast.
There was a likely very big obstacle that could move faster than him.
Viktor Krum, the Quidditch hero and Durmstrang Triwizard Champion, had conspicuously chosen Hermione as his object stolen from him and hidden at the bottom of the Black Lake. Most of the Hogwarts student body had been whispering about the pair, and the general gossip consensus was that Krum fancied Hermione - much to the disbelief of many, especially the other girls. Whether Hermione returned the sentiments was the topic up for the most intense debate. Although Krum had not asked Hermione to the ball, as far as Neville was aware, he knew it was only a matter of time.
So thinking, he took his enchanted rose with him from Professor Sprout's greenhouse and hurried up to the castle, encouraged to ask Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball by the end of the day. Even before the start of their final class.
Over a period of several days, Neville had closely watched Hermione's routine after their double Potions lesson with Professor Snape. She almost always left with Ron and Harry, going as far as the third floor of the grand staircase before peeling off to the library to study.
Neville knew this would the opportune moment, in the quiet of the maze of bookshelves, to get Hermione alone. He was being amazingly courageous to even ask her at all. To do so with the increased chance of other people watching or overhearing? He wasn't that brave. And he shuddered to think about how Ron and Harry might react. They had always been very protective of Hermione, like she was a baby sister to them; they had gone after Draco Malfoy more than once to defend her honor - not every wizard had that kind of juevos.
As soon as Snape dismissed his students for the day, Neville packed up his bag, clumsily getting his satchel's zipper stuck at first in his haste. Joining the throng of fourth years a decent distance behind the Golden Trio, he followed inconspicuously, the rose hidden safely in his cloak.
At the grand staircase, he watched as Hermione bid goodbye to the boys and peeled off down the corridor towards the library. He slipped after her, trailing so as not to arouse her suspicion. By the time he entered the hall of study, she had disappeared amongst her precious books.
Heart in his throat, Neville scanned down aisle by aisle, until at last he found Hermione, in a thankfully deserted section. A table at the back corner of one reading nook, concentrating on Snape's latest essay. Taking a deep breath, one hand hidden in his cloak and on the rose, Neville strode forward. Just do it quick, like a bandaid, he had heard Fred and George Weasley telling one nervous fifth year about getting a date. It seemed like good advice, especially from a normally unreliable, joking source like the Weasley twins.
"Hey, Hermione."
Hermione looked up, her face looking beautiful when framed with her bushy brown hair. "Oh, hey, Neville," she smiled. "What's up?"
"I want to ask you something!" Neville got out a little too forcefully, before his nerves failed him.
Hermione chuckled curiously, thrown by his eagerness. "OK..." she smiled in encouragement. It was probably about Snape's essay, or even how to hold up against his merciless mockery in class.
It turned out to be neither, as Hermione watched Neville pull a sparkling rose from his cloak and hold it aloft, out to her. "Wouldyouliketogototheballwithme?"
He got it out in a rush, so that the words ran together, and he even stuttered on a syllable or two. Hermione regarded him kindly.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that."
Neville breathed deeply, even as his heart hammered erratically. "What I meant to say was... would you like to go... to the Yule Ball with me?" He outstretched the rose to her a little more, and Hermione gingerly took it, gaping at him in surprise. Her one finger brushed a petal, but scarcely, as if she was afraid it might break under her touch.
Then... she smiled genuinely, truly touched. "Did you make this? For me?"
Neville blushed and shrugged, his breathing starting to even out now that the worst was over. At least, he thought. "Yes. Just a Shimmering Potion. I stayed up all night getting it right."
Hermione beamed with pride. She knew how hard Potions was for him, even without a Snape breathing down his neck. "I'm so flattered..."
There was a but coming; he knew it and Neville steeled himself for the letting down easy. He half-expected her to say that Viktor Krum had already asked her, and that she was promised to him.
"Yes."
Neville blinked, certain he had misheard. "Yes?"
Hermione smiled softly. "Yes, Neville, I'd love to go to the Yule Ball with you!" And she actually hugged him and even gave him a warm peck on the cheek. "You were very brave to ask me. I admire your Gryffindor pluck. And the rose is glorious."
Neville felt ten feet tall, like magic was floating him with Wingardium Leviosa. "Brilliant! I'll meet you in the Great Hall on Christmas Eve."
"Plan on it," Hermione grinned, returning to her seat as she fondled the rose with genuine affection.
Neville left the library still in a daze. Only when he was in the corridor did he let out a whoop of victory.
The night of the Yule Ball finally arrived. Alone in the girls' dormitory, Hermione checked over her pink dress in the mirror. She was the last to get ready, and had waited until Lavender and the other girls had left; thankfully, they had started primping hours before and finished unfashionably early. Raising her wand, she muttered a simple charm and drew her hair up into a bun, making the strands sleek and shiny. She wanted to look as perfect as she could for Neville - after the effort he took in even asking her, it was the least she could do.
She was one of the last to arrive. Descending down the grand staircase, she was shocked to find how almost everyone in the vicinity stopped and stared at her. Even so, Hermione allowed herself to bask in the glory of it, showing her friends and teachers the new Hermione Granger.
And her esteem swelled all the more as she met Neville at the bottom, handsome in a tuxedo and gazing at her as though she was the reason stars shone.
"Hi," she smiled gently.
"You look beautiful," Neville breathed, and the simplicity of the compliment - no thrills or fuss - impressed Hermione. She waved excitedly, actually blushing, to Harry and Ron, both gaping at her and even more so at whom she was with. At least she was happy her best friends were there - as he was wont to do, Harry had scrambled at the last minute and nabbed dates for both himself and Ron: the Patil twins. Hermione had to say, Harry's ingenuity and resourcefulness never ceased to amaze her, especially when he was under pressure.
The students were let into the Great Hall, and the four champions and their partners took to the floor for the first dance. Only then did Hermione see Viktor for the first time, on the arm of a Hogwarts student whom she didn't recognize. His second choice. She felt bad for him, but a promise was a promise. Ron, meanwhile, barely lasted through one song, plopping down at a table to sulk, eyeing Hermione and particularly Neville with clear envy and more than a little curiosity.
Harry led everyone off, and soon Hermione was waltzing around in Neville's arms. Her heart swelled at how happy he looked, even if he periodically looked down at his feet to make sure he didn't step on her toes. The pair danced through the first dance, then another and another... losing track of time as they got lost in conversation. Hermione was having a really good time, and she told Neville so.
"I knew that the Gillyweed had to be you; you saved Harry's hide with that one..." she praised him sincerely. Spinning about in Neville's arms, her eyes caught the gaze of Viktor Krum - a smoldering one, aimed right at the back of Neville's head. Neville noticed her distress, and tried to follow her gaze.
"Why is he...?" Hermione gently cupped Neville's cheek in her palm and forced his eyes back to her, but too late. Neville had seen. "Hermione, why is Viktor Krum looking at us like that?"
Hermione bit her lip. "I think he's more concentrated on you," she confessed, as the Bulgarian champion now stalked towards them from across the dance floor. At least, to Neville, it felt like stalking. Viktor sidled up to them as the pair's waltzing swung to an abrupt halt. The older man cleared his throat. "Mind if I cut in?"
Yes, Neville did mind. Very bloody much, and he felt his grip about Hermione's waist tighten; she didn't appear to notice. Neville wanted to tell the prancing peacock to take a hike. But his Gryffindor courage was out of town or otherwise preoccupied at the moment. Besides, Viktor sported muscles the width of tree trunks, making Crabbe and Goyle look like cuddly panda bears by comparison. Did Neville really want to cross those? No.
So, ever the gentleman, Neville passed Hermione over to Viktor. "We'll catch up on the next dance," he promised her.
Five minutes later, Neville would come to rue ever ceding the floor to that rogue. He wouldn't let Hermione dance with anyone else all evening, even though watching her, Hermione was trying to get back to her date. At one point, she flashed him a truly apologetic smile.
Great. Now he knew how Ron felt.
And it only got worse after the Ball, when Neville came upon Hermione – his Hermione! – being snogged in a dark corner by Viktor Krum. Hermione did not notice her date. But Neville noticed her. He trudged up to bed crestfallen.
Though if he had observed more closely, he would have realized that Hermione didn't particularly want to kiss Viktor…..
