The song in this chapter is 'Could It Be' by Christy Carlson Romano.
"Hermione, you look stunning." Lavender sighed.
Hermione twirled around in front of the mirror, self-consciously. "You think so?"
Her mother had bought her some dress robes on a whim at the beginning of the summer, when they had stopped at Diagon Alley on the way back from King's Cross, but only after they had passed her father's inspection.
Thankfully, Lily had taught Hermione a dress-alteration spell, and she had managed to transfigure the chocolate-brown robes with long sleeves ("They match your eyes," her mother had said. "Not even my sister would wear that colour." Lily had informed her) into sleeveless periwinkle blue robes with a scalloped neckline.
Parvati, upon seeing her robes, had insisted on doing her hair – which involved a good deal of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion – and Lavender her make-up, and both were now watching Hermione tearfully, looking rather like proud parents at their daughter's graduation.
Hermione smiled at the thought, and found that she didn't disagree with Lavender's assessment. She had never considered herself attractive, although maybe that was because her two best friends were male and she had always been 'one of the lads'.
Until Harry had sort-of asked her to the Ball, she wasn't even sure he knew she was a girl.
But tonight, she barely recognised herself.
"Your date's going to pass out." Parvati said with a smile.
"I hope not." Hermione remarked dryly, grabbing her cloak. Not least because he's not technically a date, she added silently, as the other two giggled. "Have a good time, ladies. I'll see you there." She slipped the cloak around her and fastened it, before lifting her hood.
The castle was abuzz with excitement and Hermione slipped through the crowd in the Entrance Hall and out into the dark grounds, skirting around the rose garden that had sprung up overnight at the beginning of the Christmas holidays, fairy lights twinkling amidst the bushes that lined the twisting pathways.
The Durmstrang ship loomed out of the darkness, making her shiver slightly at the sight; it was one of the creepier sights she'd seen, and that included Ron's table manners.
As she reached it, the gang-plank fell with a heavy thud and students began to disembark, many of them paired off.
"Ah, Viktor!" Karkaroff boomed, his voice echoing through the night. "This must be your date for the evening."
Nervously, knowing full well how Karkaroff felt about people like her and, more importantly, what he'd once done to people like her, Hermione removed her hood, letting the light from the ship illuminate her face. She couldn't help wondering whether the sharp intakes of breath were down to most of the students knowing, by now, that she was Muggle-born, or something else.
Viktor approached her with a smile, bending to kiss her hand before turning to his headmaster. "This is Hermione Granger, Professor."
"Charmed, my dear." Karkaroff said, following his student's example. "I don't think I recognise the name Granger."
"You wouldn't, sir." Hermione responded politely. "I'm Muggle-born."
For a second, Karkaroff's smile faltered, but it was hastily restored and he turned back to the students, organising them into a line.
Hermione slipped her cloak off, shivering slightly in the cold air, and folded it up, storing in her bag, which she had managed to charm to hold more than usual.
"You look beautiful." Viktor told her in a quiet voice.
Hermione glanced up, surprise evident on her face. "Oh … thank you."
Viktor offered her his arm and they led the way back up to Hogwarts, through the fairy-lit rose garden, and into the Entrance Hall.
No sooner had they arrived in the warmth than they heard Professor McGonagall's voice, amplified over the crowd. "Champions over here, please!"
She and Viktor split from the Durmstrang students and made their way to stand just to the side of the doors into the Great Hall – they were to wait there while everyone else took their seats and then enter in procession.
Cedric looked startled when he recognised her, but greeted her with a smile, which was than could be said for Cho, who was wearing traditional Chinese robes, and was gaping at Hermione in unflattering disbelief.
Fleur, who – upon conversation in the library – Hermione had learned to be both an intelligent and a compassionate young woman, greeted her more freely, seizing her shoulders and kissing her on each cheek in a customary French greeting. "Hermione, tu es magnifique!"
"Venant de toi c'est un compliment." Hermione responded easily, blushing slightly – thanks to her empathy, she knew Fleur to be completely sincere, which was incredibly flattering, given that the Beauxbatons champion looked even more stunning than usual.
She wearing silver-grey dress-robes and standing with Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, who kept staring at her as though he couldn't believe his luck. As much as Hermione liked Fleur, she had a feeling that her Veela heritage had more than a little to do with this – everyone in Hogwarts knew were Davies' admirations lay normally, and they weren't with the fairer sex.
"Close your mouth, Harry." Ginny said quietly, drawing Hermione's attention to them.
She and Harry looked very festive – he was wearing bottle-green robes that – as Molly had quite rightly guessed – offset his eyes beautifully, and she was wearing a shade of red that, somehow, didn't clash with her hair.
Harry was practically gaping at her. "Hermione … you look … stunning." As she blushed, he turned to Viktor with a stern expression. "Don't hurt her."
"Do not vorry." Viktor assured him. "I value my life."
Before any more could be said, the doors to the Great Hall opened and the other students filed past them, most Hogwarts students doing double-takes when they saw Hermione.
She wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted, especially when Ron walked right past them without even glancing at her.
On the other hand, not even the Slytherins seemed to be able to find an insult for her as they passed.
Once everyone inside was seated, McGonagall directed the champions and their dates into pairs and instructed them to follow her.
They entered the Great Hall to loud applause and Hermione couldn't help smiling. She knew that the attention would annoy her tomorrow, but for the moment, it was quite satisfying watching eat their words.
Self-conscious she may still be, but even if she doubted Viktor and Fleur, Harry would never lie to her, and his reaction was enough to make her feel a hundred times better.
The Great Hall was always stunning at Christmas, but like with the food and the grounds, Hogwarts had outdone herself and it took her breath away.
The house tables had been replaced with circular ones, leaving a large dance floor in the middle of the room. In one corner of the room, a small stage had been set up for the band – the Weird Sisters, Hermione seemed to remember someone saying. The walls were covered in silver frost and hundreds of garlands of holly and mistletoe were strewn from the starry ceiling, which had somehow been enchanted to snow softly, although the flakes never actually reached them and the floor was perfectly dry.
Four of the judges – Bagman resplendent in bright robes that rivalled Dumbledore's – were already seated at the large rounded head table, but Barty Crouch was conspicuous in his absence, and his seat was occupied by Percy Weasley.
As the champions reached the table, Percy pulled out the seat beside him and looked pointedly at Harry, who pulled out the next chair for Ginny (once she had cleared her throat significantly) before sitting himself.
During dinner, Viktor told her about Durmstrang – under the watchful eye of his headmaster – and what it was like, playing professional Quidditch.
"It is very … how vould you say …" Viktor seemed to be searching for the right English word "… annoying to be recognised only for your flying skills and nothing else."
"It must be." Hermione sympathised. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Ron, sitting with Neville and Susan, Seamus and Lavender, and Dean and Parvati. Parvati had, at Hermione's request, talked her sister, Padma, into accompanying Ron, but he seemed to be ignoring her, in favour of glaring at Hermione.
Viktor followed her line of sight. "He is not your boyfriend, is he?"
"No." Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron, dimly wondering why everyone seemed to think they were together. First Harry, now Viktor – even Parvati had mentioned it when Hermione had asked her to talk to her sister.
Well, his behaviour at the moment could certainly pass for jealousy, if it weren't for the fact that Hermione couldn't detect any in the air – although trying to isolate one emotion from one person was almost impossible in this crowd.
Catching Ron's eye, she nodded pointedly towards the girl sitting next to him, and he – reluctantly, it seemed – turned to talk to her.
"We've been best friends since first year." She continued, turning back to Viktor. "But he seems to have hit the emotional level of a teaspoon and just stayed there."
Viktor laughed. "Unfortunately, Hermione, many boys do at that age."
Once everyone had eaten, Dumbledore asked everyone to stand and, with a wave of his wand, the tables moved back against the wall, making the dance space even bigger.
The Weird Sisters trooped onstage to wild applause and Hermione resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose – they were all extremely hairy.
At the judges' cue, the champions and their dates stood and made their way on to the dance floor as a slow, mournful waltz began playing.
As Viktor spun her round, Hermione noticed that Ginny's lessons had paid off and that Harry was managing … not amazingly, but then he was only fourteen and had the eyes of the room on him, so given the circumstances, Hermione felt, he was doing quite well.
Better than Roger Davies, at least, who was still staring at Fleur (as he had been throughout dinner, to the extent that he kept missing his mouth), and needed to be physically steered around the dance floor.
Soon other dancers took to the floor as well; she could see Susan wincing frequently as Neville stood on her feet, Dumbledore waltzing with Madam Maxime (his hat barely reaching her chin), and Professors Moody and Sinistra engaged in an awkward two-step.
After several dances, Viktor offered to go and get them something to drink. Hermione agreed, and headed over to where Ron, Ginny and Harry were chatting.
Or rather, as it seemed, where Ginny and Harry were chatting, and Ron was ignoring them.
"Hey," Hermione greeted, a little breathlessly. "Where's Padma?"
Ron shrugged.
"She went off with some boy from Beauxbatons." Ginny answered for him. "Ron wasn't being a very good date."
Hermione couldn't be bothered to berate him. "It's hot, isn't it?" She commented, fanning her face with her hand. It may have been snowing outside, but the crowded hall was warmer than usual. "Viktor's just gone to get us some drinks."
"Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?" Ron asked waspishly.
Hermione frowned at him. "What's the matter with you?"
"If you can't tell, then I'm not going to tell you." Ron snapped.
Hermione rolled her eyes, lowering her voice. "I can't tell what you're feeling over this many people, Ron, so just what are you …?"
"He's from Durmstrang!" Ron snarled. "He's competing against Harry! You're fraternizing with the enemy!"
"Ron, that's enough!" Harry cut him off sharply. "I know where your train of thought is going and I strongly suggest you don't pull in at this station. I've got no problem that Hermione's here with him, and I'm the one competing against him. So just drop it. Besides, isn't there something else you'd like to comment on?"
"Like what?" Ron asked, looking lost.
Harry sighed. "I'll do it then." He turned to Hermione. "You really do look amazing tonight."
Hermione flushed. "Thank you."
At that moment, Viktor appeared next to her and handed her a bottle of butterbeer. Before Ron could make any comment, Ginny leapt to her feet and seized his hand. "Come on, big brother! You're going to dance at least once tonight."
"Why would I want to dance with you?" Ron muttered as Ginny dragged him away.
Her retort was lost as they vanished into the crowd, and Harry grinned. "Thank Merlin for that. Ginevra Weasley saves the day."
"Don't let her catch you calling her that." Hermione warned, as Susan dropped into Ginny's empty seat. "How are your feet, Susan?"
"Killing me." Susan said with a wide smile.
"Sorry about that." Hermione grinned. "Didn't think to teach Neville how to dance. Oh, Viktor, Susan. Susan, Viktor."
"Pleased to meet you." Blushing, Susan turned to Harry. "Neville's just popped to the toilet. Care to dance, since we both seem to be dateless?"
"Why not?" Harry asked lightly, draining his butterbeer. Giving Hermione a smile, he took Susan's hand and led her out on to the dance floor.
As if his departure had opened a door, which it may well have done, Draco Malfoy suddenly appeared, shaking Viktor's hand and just generally sucking up.
Hermione paid no attention to the conversation, watching Ginny attempt to reason with Ron, before giving up and forcefully leading him out of the hall, presumably to yell at him in private.
"I was wondering if I could borrow your date for a dance."
Hermione choked on her butterbeer, brought back to the two boys beside her with a sharp jolt of reality.
There was no way Malfoy had just said that.
But Viktor was shrugging. "I haff no problem vith it. Hermione?"
Faintly, Hermione agreed, taking Draco's offered hand and allowing him to lead her out into the crowd of people.
"You're wondering why I'm doing this." He commented, as his hand rested on her waist.
"Wondering doesn't begin to cover it." Hermione responded carefully. "Won't Pansy and the others be a little suspicious?" She caught sight of Harry's face over his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.
At least Ron wasn't in the hall for this.
"As far as they're aware, I'm doing this to impress Krum." Draco told her. "He's made it abundantly clear he's got no problem with you being Muggle-born, if it appears I do …" He stopped suddenly, as though he'd divulged too much. "I've been getting odd notes."
Hermione smiled slightly. "Have you really?"
"None of them sent by owl," Draco continued, "all of which seem to end up on my person shortly after you've been around."
Hermione didn't say anything. He knew it was her – it had only been a matter of time, after all.
"How did you know?" Draco asked in a low voice. "I've never told anyone. Ever. And don't say they're not from you, because we both know they are."
"I have my ways." Hermione answered slowly. "You, of all people, should know how prudent it is to keep your cards close to your chest."
"What exactly do you know?" Draco asked, as though dreading the answer.
Hermione hesitated. It would be easy – too easy – to just look into his head and find the answer, but she would never do it.
She remembered what Lily had said about natural Legilimency being a gift given only to those who wouldn't abuse it, and guessed that was what she meant.
"I know you dislike your father." She said softly, just loud enough for him to hear over the music. "I know that you were trying to warn me in the woods at the World Cup, not threaten me. I know that for the last term, at least, you've just been going through the motions when you insult us; there's no real heat behind it. I know you don't care about blood as much as you pretend to, because you only ever call me a Mudblood when you feel like you have to – and don't think I can't see the look in your eyes when you do – and you've said nothing about me undermining your father in the Top Box."
"How do I know I can trust you?" Draco pressed, looking paler than usual.
"You don't." Hermione answered simply, not missing a step as he spun her. "Look, I can't get into it here. One day, I'll tell you the full story. But you have my word that this will not spread further than this. Harry and Ron know my suspicions, but that's all. The question is, how can I help?"
Draco sighed, the first sign of outward emotion she'd seen. "I don't think you can. At the moment, I just need to finish school and get away from him."
"Okay." Hermione wasn't convinced, but she let it go anyway. "If there's anything I can do, just owl me."
"Why do you care?" Draco asked.
"Gryffindor." Hermione responded as the song came to an end. "Why does it matter?"
Draco smirked at her. "Slytherin."
As Viktor joined them, Draco released her, squeezing her hand almost imperceptibly as he nodded to Viktor and left them.
"I take, by the expression on your face, that vas not a common occurrence." Viktor commented lightly, spinning her into another waltz.
"Quite the opposite actually." Hermione agreed.
The song passed quietly. Hermione was considering the implications of what had just happened.
She hadn't expected Draco to accept her knowledge so readily and could only assume it was due to desperation. Her thoughts spun and twirled through her mind, like the dancers surrounding them, and Viktor was courteous enough to let her follow them to try to unpick what they were telling her.
In fact, Hermione was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't notice the song end, nor Harry's approach, until he tapped her on the shoulder.
"Mind if I cut in?"
Viktor glanced down at Hermione, and she nodded with a smile. "Of course not."
"Oh, and this is Ginny." Harry added, wincing when his date elbowed him in the ribs. "Ginny Weasley. Gin, this is Viktor Krum."
Viktor kissed her hand, as he had Hermione's earlier that evening. "May I have this dance?"
Ginny smiled, managing to keep a star-struck expression from crossing her face. "Of course."
Harry held out his hand to Hermione, who took it as another song struck up, one she vaguely recognised this time, although she couldn't put a title or an artist to it. She placed her other hand on his shoulder, as his settled on her waist.
"Isn't this a Muggle song?" Hermione asked, vaguely recognising it from the summer.
Harry listened for a few seconds. "Yeah, I think so. What did …?"
"I'll tell you tomorrow," Hermione said, anticipating the question. "I'm not getting into it here."
Harry nodded, and his hand moved to the small of her back, steering her around another couple.
Dancing with Harry was different to dancing with Draco. Maybe it was because they weren't talking, so she could focus on other things, like the warmth emanating through her from the place where his hand rested.
But then, she and Viktor hadn't talked the whole time, and it was different to that as well, although she couldn't understand why.
"I know we've been friends forever,
But now I think I'm feeling something totally new.
And after all this time, I've opened up my eyes,
Now I see; you were always with me."
After all, she and Viktor hadn't known each other very long; surely it should feel weirder to dance with him than with Harry.
But then … it didn't feel weird to dance with Harry; she was just very, very aware that she was doing it.
"Could it be, you and I never imagined?
Could it be, suddenly I'm falling for you?
Could it be, you were right here beside me and I never knew?
Could it be, that it's true and it's you?
Could it be that it's you?"
His dancing had improved greatly since Ginny had started teaching him by the lake, but there was a definite difference now than when she had watched them earlier in the evening. Gone were the constant glances down at his feet to make sure they were in the same place, and as soon as she realised that, Hermione realised that she hadn't been doing it either.
"It's kinda funny you were always near,
But who would ever thought that we would end up here,
And every time I've needed you, you've been there for me,
Now it's clear, I've been waiting for you."
Their feet moved almost instinctively, their movements fluid and practiced, even though this was the first time they had ever danced together.
"Could it be you and I never imagined?
Could it be, suddenly I'm falling for you?
Could it be, you were right here beside me and I never knew?
Could it be, that it's true and it's you?
Could it be that it's you?"
The music slowed, and so did the two dancers, still saying nothing, letting their eyes do the talking.
Ginny and Viktor appeared in her line of vision, and she flicked her eyes towards them, silently asking about Ron.
Harry rolled his eyes in response, his lips quirking into a smirk.
"Cause today is the start of the rest of our lives,
I can see it in your eyes and it's real and it's true …"
As they turned, Hermione caught sight of James and Lily across the hall, barely moving, wrapped up in each other, and she smiled, her gaze sliding back to Harry's, who looked questioningly at her.
"Your parents." She mouthed, and he smiled, pulling her slightly closer with the next movement.
"And it's just me and you,
Could it be, that it's true and it's you?
Could it be you and I never imagined?
Could it be, suddenly I'm falling for you?
Could it be, you were right here beside me and I never knew?
Could it be, that it's true and it's you?
Could it be that it's you?"
The song came to a close, and Harry and Hermione stopped moving, although didn't part. For a split-second, something rose between them, and Hermione fought to identify it, but just as she thought she might know what it was, it was extinguished, as Ginny and Viktor approached them.
Without dropping her gaze, Harry lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it, before handing her back to Viktor and rejoining Ginny.
"Vhat is going betveen you two?" Viktor asked curiously,
Ten minutes ago, Hermione had a simple, basic answer for that.
Now, she just stared after him. "I actually have no idea."
Less than an hour later, Viktor and Hermione parted ways in the Entrance Hall, and she made her way up to the Gryffindor common room, letting her hair out of its top-knot as she went.
She fully intended on trying to figure out what, exactly, that feeling had been and – more importantly – whether it had come from Harry or herself, or even both of them, but her path was interrupted, when she climbed through the portrait hole and came face-to-face with a very angry Ron.
"What the hell did you think you were doing?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What?" She was playing stupid on purpose, of course, but she had no intentions of playing along.
Ron glared at her. "That! Viktor Krum, Hermione! Harry's opponent! How could you?!"
Hermione sighed. "Harry already knew who I was going with." She said flatly. "He had no problem with it."
"You're fraternising with the enemy!" Ron repeated heatedly.
Hermione laughed humourlessly. "Oh, play a new record, Ron. This one's scratched." She pushed past him and started up the stairs to the dormitories.
"He's going to hurt you!" Ron called after her.
Heaving another sigh, Hermione turned around to face him. "No, he won't because we're not dating. He has a girlfriend and he asked me to keep him company so he wouldn't have to put up with a giggling fan-girl all night."
"A-ha!" Ron cried triumphantly. "See?! He is using you!"
"It's not being used if it's with my consent!" Hermione yelled, finally snapping, ignoring the other Gryffindors. "Harry did the exact same thing by asking Ginny – you don't seem to have a problem with that one, did you?!"
"Hermione, he's trying to get information on Harry!" Ron argued. "Why else would he have asked you?!"
Hermione put a hand on the stair-rail, steadying herself. "Right, because he wouldn't look twice at me otherwise, would he? Even if that is why he asked me, Harry has always had my full support in this Tournament, unlike some people." She couldn't help the satisfaction she felt when Ron's ears turned red in embarrassment. "And you can say he'll hurt me all you like; he's treated me a damn sight better than you have over the last few months."
"Damn it, Hermione, you're not listening to me!" Ron yelled.
"I am listening – you're just not making any sense!" Hermione yelled back. "If you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?"
"Oh yeah?!" Ron asked. "And what's that?"
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does and not as a last resort!" Hermione snapped, turning and fleeing up the stairs.
She ducked into the nearest toilet and barricaded the door, feeling tears begin to cascade down her cheeks. The rational side of her mind told her that Ron was just trying to protect her, but it didn't make her feel any better.
Lily appeared beside her and leaned against the wall. "I'd hug you, but I can't."
Hermione managed a laugh, hiccupping slightly through her tears. "It's fine."
"James is yelling at Ron." Lily told her.
"But Ron can't hear him." Hermione pointed out.
Lily smiled. "I know. But it's making James feel better."
"What's he saying?" Hermione asked curiously.
Lily chuckled. "I wouldn't dare repeat it. He's giving Sirius a run for his money."
"Hermione?" A knock sounded at the door and she unlocked it to see Ginny standing outside, a concerned expression on her face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Hermione sniffed as Ginny hugged her. "Ron just really got to me for some reason."
"Ron's a prat." Ginny said flatly. "You don't need me to tell you that."
Hermione laughed shakily. "No. No I don't."
"Harry wants to talk to you." Ginny whispered. "Ron's already gone up to the dorm. Harry gave him That Look."
Hermione nodded, knowing the look she meant – even Ron had some sense of preservation, and he wouldn't leave the dorm again tonight if he knew what was good for him.
Harry stood immediately when Hermione entered the common room, her face wet and her eyes red. "Hermione, you've been crying."
It was a statement of the obvious, but Hermione tried to reassure him nonetheless. The words stuck in her throat, though, a sob escaped her, and she found herself in Harry's arms, crying into his dress robes.
Ginny must have signalled something over her head, because he let out an angry hiss and tightened his arms around her. "Ron's a prat, Mione."
Hermione smiled into his robes. "That's what Ginny said."
"Are you sure you're not my brother instead of Ron?" Ginny teased.
Harry grinned at her. "With this hair? Doubt it." He focused on Hermione again. "What's really bothering you, 'Mione?"
Hermione dried her eyes and looked up at him. "Not wanting to back you into a corner or anything …"
"Uh oh!" Ginny joked. "Run for it, Harry!"
Hermione swatted her arm, still looking at Harry. "Harry, do you think I'm pretty?"
"Yes." Harry answered instantly, guiding her to sit on the sofa. "Anyone could tell you that. And you knocked everyone dead tonight."
Ginny nodded in agreement. "I had to close Harry's mouth for him. He was gawping."
Hermione couldn't help blushing. "You were?"
Harry chuckled. "Hell, yeah. You've always been pretty, Mione; tonight was just a wake-up call, that's all. Not just for me, either. Half the boys in that hall couldn't keep their eyes off you."
Hermione's blush deepened even further. "Really?"
"Really." Ginny confirmed. "Ignore Ron."
"Oh, what's he done now?" Fred's voice asked from behind them, laden with annoyance.
"Did he …?" George rounded the sofa and stopped, seeing the tear-streaks on Hermione's face. He paused, his jaw hardening, and knelt in front of her, taking her hands. "How many times do you want us to punch him, sis?"
A warm glow filled her and she smiled softly. "Don't punch him."
Fred sighed. "Well, alright. But you'd better have a good place to get rid of the body."
Hermione gave him a stern look, although it lacked heat. "Don't kill him either. Just let it go."
The twins exchanged a look over her head, before sighing in unison.
"Alright, we won't …"
"… do anything …"
"… if you're sure."
"I am sure." Hermione insisted, too tired to work out who had said what. "He doesn't even know what he did. Now …" She stood up, stretching. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
"Alright. Goodnight …"
… and sweet dreams." Fred and George enveloped her in a hug, and disappeared up the stairs to the sixth year dorms.
Ginny followed their example and made her way up the girls' staircase, carrying her shoes in one hand.
Hermione didn't blame her – her own feet were aching – and she slipped her shoes off too, promptly losing a good few inches in height and sighing softly as her bare feet came into contact with soft carpet. "That's better." She stooped to pick up her shoes and hugged Harry once more. "Night, Harry."
"Night, Hermione." Harry caught her arm as she pulled away. "I meant what I said, you know."
"I know." Hermione assured him, sliding out of his grip to squeeze his hand. "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she went back up to her dorm, staving off Lavender and Parvati's questions, at least until the next day.
It was good to have family, she thought, even if it wasn't by blood.