Chapter 10- Before the Ball
Hermione laid on her bed, her head in turmoil. The day that she had spent with Draco had been unexpectedly… fun. She never thought that she, Hermione Granger, the goody goody Gryffindor Prefect, would ever have a fun day with Draco Malfoy, the slimy little git that she had punched in third year and admit it to herself.
She turned over on her side and stared at the silvery patch of moonlight dancing on her patchwork quilt and sighed. Best get some sleep before returning to Hogwarts tomorrow.
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The following day, all the seventh and sixth years were assembled in the Great Hall, having come a week early for the Ball.
Dumbledore stood up.
"Before we start our sumptuous feast," beside her, Hermione heard Ron's stomach grumble loudly when Dumbledore mentioned the word 'sumptuous', "I would like to remind you that since the Ball is on Tuesday, the day after tomorrow, the Heads and Prefects will spend tomorrow decorating the Hall for the Ball. Our alternate dining venues will be beside the Lake for lunch and breakfast, and dinner will be served in the Common Rooms. Ms. Malfoy and Mr. Granger," he said, his eyes twinkling even more "will be in charge of the decorations and will hold a Head and Prefect meeting after dinner. That will be all, thank you."
As soon as Dumbledore sat down, the empty dishes, goblets, and bowls before the students on the House Tables filled with food. Hermione did her best in ignoring Ron as he swallowed and chewed twice as loud as the average human while he vacuumed his food to fill his insatiable stomach. She may be a guy, but there was no way that she would start eating like a starving pig, aka Ron.
After dinner, Draco, Hermione, and all the Prefects from the different Houses went to the Head's Tower while Ron lagged behind and tried to walk as fast as his bloated stomach would allow, which wasn't very fast at all. When they got to the Tower, they had to wait a bit for Ron, who came a few minutes later.
After Ron had heaved himself through the portrait hole and plopped himself beside Pansy, who scooted as far away from him as possible, Draco and Hermione proceeded to explain the Ball's theme to the prefects. Hermione had already researched all the spells that were necessary for creating the theme and all that was left to do was to tell the Prefects about it so that they could learn them and suggest some spells of their own.
"Right," started Hermione "since this is the first time in a long time that Hogwarts is throwing a Masquerade Ball, we, that is, me and Draco, have decided to make it extra special."
"That's right," cut in Draco "thanks to me, we're going to have a great theme for this Ball and-"
He was interrupted by a loud belch from Ron and a squeal of disgust following shortly afterwards from Pansy. Apparently, Ron had burped and a piece of chicken and a bit of carrot from his throat had hit Pansy's smooth, evenly powdered cheek. Immediately, chaos erupted.
"Eeewww!"
"Disgusting!"
"Ick!"
"Pig!"
"Gross!"
"Get it off! Get it off!"
"Eeeeeeeewwwwwwww!"
"SILENCIO!"
Immediately, the whole room fell silent. Everybody's mouths were still moving, but once they realized that they could no longer spew Ron with their disgust for him, they snapped their traps shut. Hermione, who had cast the spell, was at the front of the room, her wand raised.
"Now," she seethed, looking at everyone in the room "when I remove the spell, all of you will shut up so that we can have something with at least a remote semblance to an organized, ordinary meeting. Am I understood?"
Everyone nodded mutely(as if they had much of a choice) and the meeting continued without any further disturbances and was kept in check by the angry glares Hermione sent to those who were not listening. When they got to the part wherein they explained the theme, everyone agreed that it was a terrific idea.
By the time they finished, it was past eleven, and deciding that they needed rest in order to be able to decorate the humongous Hall without dying, Draco called the meeting to an end.
"Okay people," said Draco, rising from his seat "don't forget. Seven o clock sharp at the Great Hall tomorrow."
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Hermione stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, her mind thinking furiously. The day that she had spent in Draco's presence had proven that Draco wasn't at all bad. He was witty, funny, charming and when he chose to be, nice. Hermione wondered if Draco would agree to go to the Ball with her, but quickly dismissed the thought. Knowing Draco and his fan clubs, both the male and the female ones, Hermione was certain that Draco had already been offered countless more dates to the dance.
"Hey Hermione," came an all too familiar voice.
She jumped, surprised at being shaken out of her reverie, seeing that everyone had already gone into the Great Hall without her noticing, and the fact that the cause of all this jittery nervousness in her stomach was talking to her.
"Are you all right?"
"Y-yeah! I'm fine! Absolutely peachy!" responded Hermione, hurrying to join the other Prefects and running from the person who made that uncomfortable, squirmy feeling every time she got too close.
Draco shrugged and followed Hermione into the Great Hall wondering what was up with Granger today.
Apparently, that was the thought that kept playing through Draco's head the whole morning. Every time that he tried to talk to her, she would either answer him in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice, or scuttle away as fast a s simultaneously scuttling away and trying to look inconspicuous about it would allow.
For some reason, this slightly dampened Draco's spirits. This, and the fact that he had turned all everyone who asked him to the dance down without really knowing why, confused him entirely.
They finally decided to have breakfast after two hours of some hardcore cleaning, giving in to Ron's loud protests and the equally loud grumbling of his stomach.
Harry, who had just come down to eat, joined Ron and Hermione by the lake. It was a cool, crisp day and the sun bathed the four house tables in clear, watery sunlight. As soon as they sat down, Ron started piling his plate (Hermione felt sorry for it already) with mountains of bacon, toast and jam and butter, eggs, and muffins. Because he was so concentrated on shoving enormous masses of food on his plate, he did not notice Hermione's odd behavior, but Harry did.
"Hey Hermione," greeted Harry.
"Yes-"
"How's the decorating going?"
"-foy-"
"Are you fine?"
"dra-"
"What's wrong Herm?"
"-dance?"
"Oookay."
"Mal-"
"…"
"-co."
He shrugged. Maybe Hermione just needed some food. Hermione put two fried eggs and a strip of bacon on her plate. She sighed. She wasn't really that hungry. Instead, she picked up her wand and poked the food on her plate. Immediately, the food arranged itself into a happy, smiling face with eggs for eyes and a mouth of bacon.
Hermione frowned. "Stupid food," she growled, and jabbed her food again. The happy, smiling face instantly morphed into a sad, crying face, with little streams of egg yolk pouring out of the fried egg.
Harry, not so perceptive but not entirely as blind to other people's feelings as Ron, noticed Hermione's crying breakfast and nudged Ron, glancing at Hermione quizzically.
Ron shrugged, his face stuffed.
"Hey Hermione, why'd you make your food cry?" Harry smacked himself on his forehead, making a mental note to heartily discourage Ron if he ever showed the interest for becoming a spy, or a private detective. The words "discreet" or "mysterious" were certainly not in Ron's dictionary.
"Nothing, nothing's wrong at all!"
"Come on Herm, you can tell Harry and me!" Ron said, trying to grin encouragingly but the effect was slightly marred by the fact that a bit of egg was dangling from one of his upper teeth.
At first, Hermione seemed to have spaced out, then, all of a sudden, she started babbling incoherently.
"ireallywanttotakedracotothedancebutidontknowhowtoaskhimandiwanttodie-"
"Whoa, Hermione, slow down a bit," said Harry, alarmed at his friend's unusual absence of sanity.
Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Well, I er, … you see, I want to… cough , anyways, erm.."
"Well, what is it?"
Hermione glared at Ron angrily for ruining her 'buy-some-time-to-think-of-a-good-excuse' tactic. "Fine!" then, in a lowered voice she said "I want to take Draco to the dance, but I haven't got a clue as to how I am supposed to. Are you happy now?"
Surprisingly, Hermione didn't receive any angry, disbelieving lectures on how Draco was a prat, how she could even think of going with him, how evil Draco was, blah, blah, blah. Instead, Harry and Ron high fived.
"What?" asked Hermione.
"Pur-lease, Hermione," said Harry, rolling his eyes "you two are soo obvious. I mean, even Ron here noticed."
"Hey!"
"It's true!"
"Shut up-"
He was cut in midsentence by Hermione, who, still looking bewildered asked "You mean you two guys actually noticed, um, something?"
"Yup," answered Ron "and I wouldn't be surprised if Draco wants to go with you too. I heard he turned down all the dates he was offered, even the one from Zabini, the slimy little git. I heard him crying about it in the bathrooms yesterday. Wimp."
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"Just go ask her already!" Ron whispered furiously.
"Right," answered Hermione "let me just go dig a hole and die in it first!"
"Hermione, if you don't ask Malfoy before we're senior citizens, we'll, um… be senior citizens," said Harry.
"Real witty and persuading Harry. Really."
The three of them had practically stalked Draco after decorating, Ron and Harry trying to make Hermione pluck up the courage to ask Draco to go the ball with her. Right now, they were uncomfortably squashed in a tiny alcove in the wall and peeking every once in a while at Draco, who was chatting with some friends some way along the corridor.
Hermione's knees felt like jelly, her brain felt like Styrofoam, her mouth was dry, and a swarm of butterflies had invaded her insides. She gulped.
"Hermione, are you all right? You look kinda clammy," said Harry, looking concerned.
"Yeah," said Ron, his head cocked to one side "pale too. Are you nervous, or did you just think of something horny-"
"RON!"
"Okay, okay. Yeesh! People these days…" he mumbled, shaking his head.
While Ron was grumbling incoherently to himself about how people had no sense of humor anymore, how they maltreated poor Ron, and other stuff like that, Hermione took a couple of deep breaths, steeling herself for something that she was sure would result in total humiliation and shame.
Her hands shaking slightly, Hermione stepped out of their cramped little hidey-hole.
"Hey Draco," she said, jogging to reach him. The friends that Draco was previously talking to had gone.
"Yes?" underneath his cool façade, Draco felt something like a flipped pancake in his stomach.
Hermione gulped. It was now or never. "Bbbleehhyybubudr." ARGH! What was wrong with her bloody throat?
"Huh?"
"Do y-you erm, … coughcough that is, if you don't, well, erm, maybe-"
"Spit it out!"
"Fine! Do you want to go with the Ball with me?"
At first, Draco looked genuinely shocked. Hermione thought that the thought that Draco must be thinking was "Me? She asked me? I, Draco Malfoy, richest, hottest person on earth will never stoop so low just to bring Hermione to the dance." When the real thought in his head was "ohmygodohmygodohmygodphmygodohmygod…"
"Of course I would want to go with you!"
Hermione, in her state of jittery nerves, misheard Draco's answer.
"Oh, okay. Actually, I'm not surprised. Loads of other guys must have asked you out already. Guys more handsome, rich, charming-"
"Hermione, I said yes."
Hermione blinked stupidly for a few seconds.
"You-you said yes?"
"Uh huh. Do I have to spell it out for you?" asked Draco, smiling.
"Oh," said Hermione, her insides simultaneously writhing and inflating. Writhe, inflate. Writhe, inflate. "thanks then."
Draco nodded and walked primly down the hall, Hermione watching him go. As soon as he rounded the corner, Draco started skipping happily. He couldn't believe that Hermione had finally gathered the guts to actually ask him out. He was so looking forward to the Ball. Of course, he would have to make sure that Hermione looked perfect for him. He'd have to check her outfit, shoes, hair…