Chapter Ten

It was a few days after Pansy had discovered Draco's little secret, and Hermione was enduring another afternoon session with a group of Gryffindor girls. Hermione noticed drearily

that the girls' topics of conversation could almost be mapped weekly. On Mondays (because Quidditch practice was on) all of the girls would discuss which guys looked hotter in

Quidditch robes, or they would discuss hair. On Tuesdays, the girls would either moan about how much school work they had or they would whine about their

nails/weight/eyebrows/skin. Wednesdays and Thursdays were usually taken up by discussions about having girl's night's in over the weekend and using contraband Zonko or Weasley

products like love potions or Puking Pastels. Fridays were usually the days when the Gryffindor girls would tease each other about boyfriends, imaginary, hypothetical or otherwise.

That evening the hot topic was the first ever Halloween Masquerade Ball, being held in the Grand hall on All Hallows Eve. It was a week or so away, and all of the girls were discussing

their dates and their dresses. Apparently many of the couples were going in matching costumes. Ginny had even shown Hermione the ball gown she was going to wear. Hermione

had listened to them all with a slight sadness in her heart, for she knew that there was only one guy who she would ever want to take her there, and that that could never happen

because of the fact that she didn't even know who he was. Ah well, she had thought, it's just a dance. Who cares? But a little, absurd part of her had then imagined her dancing

with her writer, spinning across the dance floor in a princess frock. Her mother had even insisted on sending her a dress in the mail, despite Hermione's protests. She had promptly

hidden it at the back of her cupboard, because she knew that she wouldn't be wearing it anyway, so what was the point of it sitting there, staring at her sadly? Always the practical

one, she was.

Ron had been bugging Hermione about whether she was going to the ball with anyone. She had answered no, and had followed it up with a thorough bashing of the idea of a

Halloween dance, stating something about how it was not historically accurate at all and was a waste of everyone's time. As happened so frequently at the moment, Ron had

slumped off grumpily mid conversation leaving Hermione slightly bewildered. It was only afterwards that she realized Ron had been trying to ask her to the dance. She had

shuddered at the thought, adding another reason not to go to the ball to her measly list.

It was eight days before the dance that the Writer himself brought up the subject of the ball. Hermione had gone to check a source for her transfiguration essay and briefly checked

Hogwarts a history for a note when she found it.

Hermione, it read,

I know that this may seem absurd, as you don't even know who I am. I don't even know whether you already have a date or not. However, I might as well ask, so here goes;

Will you go to the ball with me?

Hermione had to read this several times before it sunk in properly. A frantic buzzing seemed to fill her as she acknowledged that there was no other way to interpret that question.

She read on quickly.

…As it is a masquerade ball, we would both of course wear masks, and I hope that you would forgive me if I tell you now that I would not reveal my identity to you on the night. I

just don't want your opinions to change about me once you know who I am. Unfortunately

, I'm not known as the nicest person in real life. But, taking all that into account, I should also like you to know that I would like nothing more than to spend time with you, mask to

mask. With all this in mind, would you still consider going with me?

God, I feel so stupid right now,

Writer

Hermione finished the letter but the furious buzzing in her chest didn't cease. She would be able to finally see her writer, even if he was dressed up and masked. And she would be

able to dance with him, for an entire glorious night. Her hands shook furiously and she couldn't help but grin stupidly as she scribbled her answer for him;

Dear Writer,

I would absolutely love to go with you to the ball. There is no one I would rather go with than you. However, how will I know you? As you won't tell me who you are, I'll need

something to identify you.

She paused momentarily before continuing.

I'd also like you to know that no matter who you actually are will not change my opinions of you, Writer and that you shouldn't worry about telling me.

Answer back soon!

Hermione

She pushed open the library doors and couldn't contain a squeak of pure excitement and happiness. She hugged herself and walked off to her next class with books and note in

hand. She didn't even notice the boy outside the library with the white-blonde hair, standing in the shadow of a pillar and smiling after her.