A/N: My thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! It's lovely to be able to interact with you. :) And now, for the event many of you have been waiting for...

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Yule Ball

Hogwarts, 25 December 1994

"Now, smile!" Colin Creevey, a Muggle-born of Gryffindor who had taken to wizarding photography like a fish to water, was grinning near the Gryffindor common room hearth. "Your mum and dad will want to see all their children dressed up for the ball, you know!"

Fred threw an arm across George's shoulders. Ron stood on George's other side. Ginny stood in front of all of them. Fred and George were both wearing black dress robes, with white dress shirts. Fred's waistcoast was a brown shade, George's was green. Both had chosen unconventional ties that matched the robes. They had worked hard at their transfiguration spells, having inherited dress robes from Bill and Charlie years ago. When Ron had seen how fixed their transfigurations were, he had actually gone on his knees and begged for them to fix his dress robes.

"To be fair," George had remarked, "Mum gave him the last set. And they're ghastly."

So the twins had put their heads together to improve Ron's robes on a permanent basis. First, they'd made them black. That wasn't too hard, really. And then they'd taken off all the lace. That enough had made Ron so happy he'd almost promised them his desserts for a week.

Almost.

They'd transfigured the lace to a cravat and called it done. "Mind, you owe us," Fred had told their brother.

On the night of the Yule Ball, though, they didn't have the heart to tease him. He looked so miserable. Fleur Delacour had turned him down flat in front of a large audience and he was going to the ball with one of the Patil sisters. Padma, Fred thought. The one from Ravenclaw. Parvati was in their house and Harry was taking her.

"Okay, now with your dates!" Colin called next, moving behind a sofa to get a better perspective.

Fred smiled at Angelina, their Quidditch Team Captain, who had consented to go with him. "You owe me," she said with a smile.

"I know it." He didn't know what she might ask, in the end, but he'd pay up if he could.

George's date was Alicia Spinnet, with whom he and Fred had often partnered over the years in Defense. This year, they'd split their time with Hermione, but both Angelina and Alicia had seemed to take that in stride. "I'm not going to make her mad," had been their Captain's rationale. "That girl almost took out the Durmstrang Champion in a duel."

Ginny was able to attend the Yule Ball purely because she had been asked by Neville Longbottom. A nice chap, Neville, and Fred wasn't even remotely worried about his sister's virtue whilst she was with him. Neville was certainly well turned out for the evening. White tie and fine dress robes and all. The Longbottoms knew how to do the thing up right.

"Great! Thanks!" Colin was all but dancing his way across the common room to get more photographs.

"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked, checking the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

Ron shrugged. "He and the other Champions are leading off everything, so they're all somewhere getting lined up, I guess."

Fred offered Angelina his arm, glaring at Ron until he did the same for his date. "Ready?"

"Let's go!" his date said.

"You look really nice," Fred told her, smiling down into her eyes. She was wearing velvet. Purple, with tiny straps over her shoulders. Her hair was down but back from her face.

"Thank you," she said with an eye-roll. "You look smart yourself."

He tossed his head back. "Well, you know, it's the hair."

She snorted. "Of course it is."

The ball was being held in the Great Hall, unsurprisingly, and it had been entirely redecorated. "Cor, Gred," George murmured. "Look at all of this."

It was a winter landscape, filled with ice and pine, but it wasn't remotely chilly. Illusion had to have transformed everything, George figured. It was amazing. Arches of ice soared overhead. Columns of crystal lined the walls. Snowy pine trees were clustered here and there along the perimeter. Tables fit in, too, leaving a white floor for the business of the ball. Dancing.

"I do expect to dance, Weasley," Angelina informed George in a low voice as they moved through the crowd of students toward a table that would accommodate the four of them plus anyone else who might join them later.

"I do expect I'll be dancing as well, Johnson," Fred returned with a smile. "It is a ball, after all."

"Promise me that if you and George trade off, you'll let us know?"

"Aw, taking all our fun!" Fred protested with a grin.

Having heard this, George turned with Alicia to take part in the conversation. "We're good at trading places."

"Done it all our lives."

"We tend to share, you know." That both twins said this with prodigious eyebrow wiggling made them laugh while their dates just shook their heads.

"May I have your attention!" Dumbledore's amplified voice carried throughout the Hall. "It is time for our Champions to lead us off this evening. And here they are." As he called the Champion's name, he also named their date, so George knew they wouldn't miss Hermione when she entered.

"Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons and Roger Davies of Hogwarts. Viktor Krum of Durmstrang and Hermione Granger of Hogwarts. Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts and Cho Chang, also of Hogwarts. And finally, Harry Potter of Hogwarts and Parvati Patil, also of Hogwarts. These couples will now start the dancing for us with a waltz."

Now, George knew it was bad form to stare at one girl whilst on a date with another. Not that he and Fred had dated 'round or anything, but a man knew these things from listening to his brothers, didn't he? After all, Bill and Charlie had definitely dated around. (Percy, not so much, but Percy was an odd duck.) Still, bad form or not, George couldn't manage not to stare at Hermione Granger.

They thought she was pretty, he and Fred. They did. She had cinnamon brown eyes and untamed hair that they both thought was really sexy. That she did certain unmentionable-in-public things to them—all unknown to her, but still—when she faced them down for any reason only contributed to her many charms. She made a neat, feminine figure in her school uniform, but she hadn't really made the most of it, they knew. And they'd seen her in her swimming outfit from those vacation pictures, too. All. That. Skin.

So, they knew Hermione was pretty. But. They had never seen her when she was trying to look pretty, not in person, and they knew that tonight? For the Yule Ball? She really had.

Her dress was green, next to Drum's crimson, so they looked like a perfect Christmas couple. Which was kind of nauseating, but there it was. The green dress was long, all the way to the floor, with a bit of a train behind it, even. No sleeves, but the front went up to her shoulders and collar bone. She didn't have any jewelry on save for a pair of diamond earrings. Tiny ones. Her hair was up in some kind of thick braid-crown-thing with silver flowers woven into it. He hadn't a clue, but thought it was perfect.

She looked innocent and beautiful and it made George dither between wanting to admire her and wanting to be jealous of Krum.

And then, she walked further on and he saw the back of her dress. And his mouth went dry. The back of the dress was open, save for two bands of the same Slytherin green fabric that the rest of the dress was made from, but those bands were loose. Like they'd just drape right off of her and leave all that skin… In. Person.

And she'd be waltzing with Krum. International Quidditch Star and Triwizard Champion.

Damn.

"Eyes back in your head, Weasley," Alicia whispered.

Embarrassed, George felt himself blush but he smiled at his date. She'd been sweet enough not to give him a hard time for asking after Hermione'd turned them down right in front of their DADA class. "Sorry."

"No, I get it. She looks amazing, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she really does."

Alicia laughed lightly and punched him in the arm. Just a little. "Well, she didn't wait for the Wonderful Weasley Boys to ask her, so she'll just have to settle, won't she?"

Angelina chuckled. "Enough, Alicia. You'll give these boys bigger heads than they already have."

"Oi! Our heads aren't so big."

"Not so's you'd notice, anyway."

"Of course, we don't measure them often, do we?"

"No! We leave that to the ladies!"

"Oh!" Hermione gasped as Viktor lifted her through a turn on the dance floor.

He grinned as he set her gently back on her feet and guided her expertly through the swirling dancers that surrounded them. She drew nearer to him and inhaled deeply, catching the scents of sandalwood and bergamot over leather. Masculine, but not overwhelming. "You dance vell," he told her.

"I have a good partner," she said with a smile.

"Look, here comes another one, if it is good vith you?" Viktor's brows rose and she followed his gaze to see Marko approach them.

"May I cut in?" the other young man asked with a slight bow.

After a pause, Hermione bobbed in half a curtsey. "Of course." She had, after all, danced with a few boys that evening. All the Champions had taken turns with one another's partners during the second dance of the evening, and after the sumptuous dinner, there had been still more dancing. Sometimes, she danced with Viktor, while the Weird Sisters played for their enjoyment. Other times, with other guys.

Marko, of course, was a friend and she was comfortable enough when he spun her about. "What do you usually do for Christmas?" she asked him after their dance.

"Spend the day vith family and friends. Ve sometimes play Qvidditch if it is not snowing."

She laughed and shook her head. "You boys and your Quidditch."

He brought her to her chair, but Viktor hadn't returned from his dance, yet. "Ve all know you do not like the game, Hehrmyoni."

They shared a smile but didn't converse any more while she got her breath back. She was just about to see about getting some of the punch on one of the side tables when George Weasley appeared in front of her.

He bowed quite formally before presenting her with a cup of punch. "Miss Granger. Would you do me the honor of the next dance? You know, after you refresh yourself."

"Very, how you say, smooth?" Marko said with a smile. "I vill leave you in good hands then, Hehrmyoni."

"Thank you for the dance, Marko." She accepted the cup of golden, bubbly punch and invited George to sit next to her. "This was perfect," she told him after taking a grateful sip. "Do you read minds, too?"

"Only if you want to think it makes me more intelligent," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. Then, he leaned forward a bit, but turned to meet her eye as she had another sip. "So. You look brilliant tonight."

It wasn't his words, but the way he said them that sent the blush to her cheeks, she was fairly certain. "You look quite nice, yourself."

He made quite an issue out of preening for her, which made her laugh. And that made him stop preening and start staring at her. Which, in turn, made her stop laughing.

"You know," he began slowly while he sat back and all but rubbed shoulders with her. "I feel we've let you down, Fred and me."

"No! Why?"

"You don't laugh nearly enough. Here we are, greatest pranksters Hogwarts has seen since the Marauders, and we can't get our girl to laugh."

She was reminded instantly of the pages of notes he had given her weeks ago that day in Defense when she'd had to turn down their invitation to the Ball.

Magical identical twins are unique because they share a magical core. They shared one at birth and it will always keep them tied close to one another. For us, (the twin had written) it extends to our wands. Our wands are brothers, meaning that they've got the same core and are made from the same wood.

In the magical world, then, it can happen that identical twins will find one person who they are attracted to. Our uncles, Fabian and Gideon Prewett, were identical twins and they had one girlfriend. Our eldest brother, Bill, remembers her. They were all killed in the war, though, or we'd have references.

It's difficult, being a magical identical twin, because of this shared core. Our feelings aren't always private from one another. We feel like something's missing when we're apart from each other for too long.

And, of course, we found ourselves interested in the same girl. Who was not raised in our world. So we don't know if this would even work with her, you know? Maybe you could help us out?

"Your girl, eh?" she asked, finding all her reserves were necessary to keep her eyes steady on George's face. His gaze faltered and she quickly extended her hand to him. "I did read your notes, you know," she said, doing her best to keep her voice low. "I'm just sorry I didn't get them earlier."

His skin pinked all the way to his ears and he rubbed at the back of his neck. "As to that, yeah. Our fault. My fault, really."

Hermione reminded herself that George and Fred were Gryffindors. Her House mocked theirs because they wore their feelings on their faces, their hearts on their sleeves. They were rash and reckless. If they hadn't been, regarding those notes, that meant something. "You were being cautious?" she asked.

"That's a good turn on it, yeah," he said with half a laugh. "So, oh, hey, Krum." George stood, hand out to shake Viktor's. "I came to ask Hermione to dance, and then we fell to talking."

"This is understandable," Viktor said with a sharp smile. "Hehrmyoni?"

"I'd still like that dance, Viktor. If you won't be inconvenienced."

"No. Just come back to me, yes?"

"We'll bring her back, Krum. No worries," George assured him in his friendly way. Then he set her cup aside and led her to the floor.

"Should I worry about my toes?" she inquired archly, suppressing a smile as George whirled her in a wide arc.

He laughed. "No, no. McGonagall made sure we were not bumbling baboons, or whatever it was she said. She made sure we all had lessons. Didn't your House?"

"Professor Snape is not given to dancing, but Professor Sinistra gave lessons for those who needed them."

"Did you?"

She arched a brow at him. "No. I've been taking dancing lessons since I was three years old. Even Muggles learn how to dance, you know."

He ducked his head, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Just taking the mickey."

With a gasp, he met her eye. "Really? You, Hermione Granger, taking the mickey?"

With an innocent expression, she did her best eye-fluttering for him. She might not be a flirtatious person by nature, but she had good powers of observation. Then, when he appeared to be really discomfited by that, she had to laugh a little. "Really, George. You're just too easy."

"May I cut in?"

"Fred!"

"Gred!" George spun her off into his twin's arms and Hermione could only admire how smoothly they accomplished the transition. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Granger," George called over the music before he loped off, presumably to find his partner.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said with a tolerant smile. "Nicely done, I must say."

"Good evening, Miss Granger." He pulled her in closer to his body for just a few steps before relinquishing his hold to something more socially acceptable. She blushed, but recovered as his expression because quite serious. "So. You were talking to my brother, weren't you?"

"As anyone here could have seen, yes. Nothing untoward, I assure you."

"Ah, too bad!"

"Honestly, Fred."

He guided her expertly to the outer edge of the dancers, but didn't take her from the floor entirely. She had to wonder what he thought he was doing. He told her. "Did you read the notes we gave you?"

Oh, so that was what he was after. Well, she remembered again that they were lions and did her best. "I did. I was surprised, of course. As I told George, I wish I'd had those notes earlier."

"You do?"

"Yes." She could be direct if she had to. When dealing with Gryffindors, it was sometimes best, apparently.

"Well, since you have them now, we were wondering if you'd be willing to spend New Year's Eve with both of us."

That was blunt talk indeed, but she appreciated it if only because she didn't have to peer around corners to make it make sense. Much. "A date?"

"A bona fide date."

"With both of you?"

"At the same time, even."

She smoothed out her expression as he moved them carefully around the floor. It was in front of her in a direct kind of way. She was fifteen years old and was being asked to be part of a triad.

Merlin!

Still, it was something she hadn't even known was an option last month, and she had to admit she liked the idea in principle . . . naughty as that made her feel, she was not blind to her own wishes.

"Fred, I—"

"Wait. Don't say no, yet. Just hear me out, all right? George is always worrying that we'll scare you off if we say anything, but he's not here and someone has to do this."

She had to laugh at the exasperated look on his face. He stopped his diatribe and stared at her. "You don't do that nearly enough. Laugh, I mean."

"So I've been told."

"Have you been told you look beautiful tonight?" His hand, which had been dutifully settled at the small of her back, spread out a little so she could feel the tips of his fingers against the bare skin revealed by her dress. "Because you really, really do."

"Thank you," she whispered, shocked at how such a small touch was affecting her.

"So. New Year's Eve? We're, we're not expecting anything. Just a kiss at midnight," he assured her with a wistful light in his eye that belied the playful curl of his voice.

"Can we, can we talk about, about this?"

"Of course. We reckoned we would if you were agreeable and all. And hey," he went on, stopping abruptly to dip her in a move that had nothing to do with the music and everything to do with the happiness she could see on his face, "we've dueled with you. You can take us two-on-one no problem, so you're safe."

She was innocent of many things, true, but that bit of byplay was finally understood and she felt blood suffuse her skin from her throat up. "Er, yes. I'll make sure to bring my wand, then."

The music ended and the band announced a break, so Fred offered his arm to her to walk her back to the head table, where she was sitting with Viktor. "So, have you heard anything about the egg clue?"

"Not much, no. You?" Professor Snape was standing next to Professor Moody between two pine trees near her destination and she hoped he was trying to get Moody's flask!

"Harry opened it when we were near and the screeching of it was terrible. Almost enough to make a man want to pitch it into the Black Lake, you know?"

Her half-thoughts on the professors were halted and even her steps stopped short of the head table. "What? What did you say?"

Looking confused, Fred still seemed about to answer just as Viktor hurried to them, his aspect fierce. "Hehrmyoni? Are you all right?"

"Yes. Just talking about the next clue with Fred Weasley, here."

Viktor's facial muscles relaxed and he nodded. "Yes. It is very loud."

Fred looked to Viktor. "I was telling her it screeched something awful. High pitched. And that it made a man want to throw it in Black Lake." He glanced to Hermione. "Which is where you stopped walking and looked like someone hit you with a Bludger."

"Right. Screeching. High pitched. Water. I was just thinking of a high pitched sound that sounds different somewhere else. Like in a lake or sea. Dolphins and whales, Fred. Viktor, have you heard whalesong?"

"Vhat? Vhales sing?"

"Blimey! Yes!" Fred's whole face lit up. "We've got to get those eggs to the Black Lake, then!"

Hermione shook her head. "Fred. It's December. Where else is there a big pool of water around Hogwarts? One that isn't icy cold?"

"Is not that bad." Viktor frowned in thought. "I could put egg into vater."

"But do you want to go swimming at this time of year to hear what it might say underwater?" Hermione tried not to roll her eyes.

Fred's mouth made a big O. "The Prefect's bath!"

"Right."

"And Diggory's a Prefect! We've gotta tell Harry."

"My vriends tell me you are a fast learner vith dueling," Viktor remarked between a couple of fast dances as the evening wound to a close.

"Your friends are very kind," Hermione replied. "They've been helpful and I feel they're all wonderful teachers."

"You are also good teacher. I vill try the egg in the big lake soon. Tomorrow, perhaps."

She shook her head. "Don't. It's so cold, Viktor."

He offered her an elevated smile. "You not hear of varming charms?"

Embarrassed, she blushed. "Sorry. Of course. I hadn't thought."

"Is okay. You are still very smart vitch." He laughed and drew her aside, through the milling dancers, keeping his hand at a very proper position on her lower back. She wondered if he would move it higher, or spread out his fingers as Fred had done, so she could feel his skin on hers, but . . . he didn't.

Which, really, was for the best, she admonished herself. Really. Her English wizards were a year and a half older than she was; Viktor Krum was at least two and possibly as many as three years older. That, and the whole European background thing, was all a bit intimidating, even if she never admitted it to anyone.

"So, smart vitch," he said once he had separated them from the majority of the ball-goers. They were nearer to the Slytherin dungeons than any other place, and it was quiet, if not hidden. "Vill you help me vith the egg clue?"

"Pardon?"

"Help me. Come listen to egg if it makes sounds that are a language under the vater."

"Well, yes, but when? I am going home tomorrow for the rest of the holiday."

"It vill vait, I am thinking. Next task is not until fevruari."

"All right. If you need me then, I'll help."

"Good."

They stood quietly together, and she found herself leaning against the thick stone wall of the castle. Her feet were tired; she was only wearing kitten heels, but all that dancing was exhausting. After a few moments, Viktor began looking a bit restless. "Is everything okay?" she wondered in barely a whisper.

"Da. I just am not ready to have the dance finish."

She smiled up at him, as he was leaning next to her, both of them facing an arch in a wall that led to the dancing. "It has been lovely, Viktor. Thank you for asking me."

"Thank you for coming." He turned, then, and took one of her hands in his. It was an intimate gesture, perhaps, but they had been dancing together most of the night and he was her friend, so she didn't feel uncomfortable. He studied her hand and she studied him. The way his chest seemed to move in and out with erratic breaths. The way he'd open his mouth and close it right away. The way he darted a few careful glances about their little space. Finally, he nodded as if to himself. "May I kiss you goodnight?"

"Of, of course. Yes." Inside, she was dancing and shouting, My first kiss! I'll have to tell Mum! And immediately, even as Viktor moved between her and the dancing beyond them, she thought, Oh, no! I've never done this before. I'm going to fail miserably and he'll hate me and—

But then, he tilted her chin up with a warm finger that trembled just a bit and her nerves dissipated. She could do this. He would begin and she would follow, right? Her heart pounded and she flicked her tongue lightly over suddenly dry lips and then, his lips touched hers. She resolved to put all thoughts of kissing George and Fred at midnight on New Year's Eve away for now. It was only Viktor and her first kiss and—

And nothing.

He moved back, his face bemused and eyes crinkled with a smile. "Vait. I haff been nervous about this."

She blushed. "I'm nervous, too."

He nodded decisively. "Let us try again."

With her explicit agreement, he cupped her face with both his hands, his determined focus still amused and affectionate as he lowered his head to hers. She closed her eyes and felt his lips slant first one way, then another, and it wasn't bad or unpleasant; it just wasn't . . . anything.

This time, she moved away a little, though not out of his hands. "I'm so sorry. I've never done this and I'm afraid I've disappointed you and—" Where was her Slytherin mask? Her poise? Her determination to succeed? Hermione didn't know. All she knew was that she had managed to ruin her first kiss and it had to be all her fault because he was Viktor Krum.

But the international Quidditch star and all-around nice young man shook his head fondly at her. "No. You cannot disappoint. Not ever. Is just, different." He switched to French, as his fluency was still greater in that language. "You are a very pretty girl, Hehrmyoni. And I like you. But when I kiss a girl I like, there is usually a, a fire, you know?"

"Ah. So no chemistry?" She said that word in English.

"Khimiya?" he said in his native tongue. "Is that how they say it here?" he asked in French again. "Yes, that. No reaction." His skin was dark under his swarthy complexion. She thought he was blushing. "For you? The same?"

"Oui, the same for me. So it's not my fault?"

He chuckled and caressed her cheek with the knuckles of one hand before moving to lean against the wall again. "No. Not at all, but it is awkward."

"It is. I would hope not so awkward that we cannot still be friends." That was important to her.

To him as well, apparently. "Yes, we are good friends. And I hope that will always be so."

"Good."

"So, when are you going to be back from visiting your family?"

She told him and he said he'd remember before escorting her with all courtesy to the Slytherin common room, where he wished her a Happy Christmas and she wished him a Happy New Year.

And as she made her way to her dorm room, she wondered if her New Year's Eve kisses with the twins would have chemistry or if she'd be relegated to "good friend" again.

A/N: Krum's a good guy. Please don't hate him. Or me. Thank you, and have a good weekend!