Snow was falling thickly upon the stone castle and its grounds by now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin and the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed over in ice, the rigging white with frost. The House-elves had outdone themselves this year with a series of heartwarming stews and savoury puddings that left only the French witches, such as Fleur, complaining about the richness of the food.
"It is too 'eavy, all his 'Ogwarts food" You'd hear her complain as she left the Great Hall on many an occasion. "I will not fit into my dress robes!"
"Ooh! There's a tragedy" Hermione murmured snappishly as they passed by the complaining witch, "She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn't she?"
"Hermione, who are you going to the ball with?" Said Ron. He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she was least expecting it. However, Hermione merely frowned at the question.
"I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me"
"You're joking, Weasley!" Malfoy couldn't help but call out from behind them, "You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?"
Both Harry and Ron whipped around to defend their friend, but Hermione bet both of them to the punch. "Hello, Professor Moody!" She called waving at someone over Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy instantly grew pale and jumped backward, looking around wildly for Moody only to find him still sitting up at the teachers' table. "Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?"
The three climbed up the marble staircase, laughing heartily as they went, making jokes about the blonde Slytherin and imitating his face in exaggerating expressions. "Hermione," Ron said, looking sideways at her and suddenly frowning, "your teeth…"
"What about them?" She asked.
"Well, they're different…I've just noticed…"
"Of course they are—what? Did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave to me?"
"No, I mean, they're different to how they were before he hexed you…They're all straight and—and normal-sized"
Hermione smiled mischievously. "Caught on, have you? Took you long enough" It was one she didn't usually share with the boys; if only because they were so thick-headed and only ever talked about three things: Quidditch, homework and the latest deathly threat on Harry. "Well…when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were. And I just…let her carry on a bit" She smiled wider, "Mum and Dad won't be too pleased; I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. Y'know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should—look! Pigwidgeon's back!"
The tiny twittering owl was seated atop one of the icicle-laden banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People passing by him were pointing and laughing, and a group of third-year girls paused and said, "Oh look at the weeny owl! Isn't he cute?"
"Stupid feathery git!" Ron hissed, hurrying up the stairs and snatching the owl from the banister, "You bring the letters to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!"
The third-year girls scurried off looking rather scandalised at how Ron treated his owl, but the little bird just hooted happily when he was waved around like a child's toy. "Here—take it, Harry" Ron thrust Sirius' letter to the boy who pocketed it and they hurried back to Gryffindor tower to read it. Luckily, everyone in the common room was much to busy in letting off the holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to.
Hermione tucked herself in between Ron and Harry off to the side, in the little alcove under the stairs, as Harry read out the letter from Sirius. "Well, go on, Harry" Ron pushed before they even sat down, "What's Si—Paddy say?"
"Whose Paddy?" Seamus asked, catching the last bit of the trio's conversation as he passed by with arms laden with food from the kitchens.
"Uh—" Ron mumbled, suddenly at a loss for words.
"—He's my uncle" Hermione cut in, stepping on Ron's toes in warning.
"Your uncle? But I thought you said your family was German?"
"Yeah, they are" Hermione grinned, "But Uncle Paddy is about 4 foot with green hair and can drink anyone under the table. So, y'know…"
"Ha! That sounds like my uncle too! And my Ma…" Seamus trailed off, as he wander back upstairs.
"Quick thinking, 'Mione!" Harry relaxed into his seat as he looked over the slightly crumpled letter in his hands.
"Oh, I wasn't lying. I really did have an Uncle Paddy" Hermione replied.
"What?"
"Yeah, 'til he was hit by a cab. Auntie Gary was devastated"
"Auntie Gary?" Ron puzzled.
"Mm, it's my mum's nickname for her. Auntie Gary's had so much botox that she looks like Gary Glitter"
"Ha!" Harry snorted at the image.
"Whose Gary Glitter?" Ron questioned.
"I'll show ya later" Hermione murmured back as Harry began to quietly read the letter out to the two:
Dear Harry,
Congrats on getting passed the Horntail! Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitis Curse—a dragon's eyes are its weakest point—
"That's what Vi—Krum did!" Hermione whispered, only slightly stumbling over his name when she remembered that she had yet to tell the two about her relationship with the Bulgarian Seeker.
—But your way was better, I'm impressed. Don't get complacent, though, Harry. You've only down one task; whoever put your name in the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open—particularly when the person we discussed is around—and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble.
Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.
"He sound exactly like Moody" Harry grumbled quietly, tucking the letter inside his robes, "Constant vigilance!' You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off of the walls…"
"But he's right, Harry" Said Hermione, ever the moral-compass "you have still got two task to do. You really ought to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means…"
"Hermione, he's got ages!" Snapped Ron, "Want a game of chess, Harry?"
"Yeah, okay" Agreed Harry. When he spotted the disapproving look on Hermione's face, the bespectacled wizard turned to her, "C'me on, how'm I s'posed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot"
Hermione childishly grumbled her reply and just sat back to watch the two boys play their game of chess; which culminated in an exaggerated checkmate of Ron's pieces, which invoked a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.
"Mrrow!" Purred Crookshanks, nuzzling his pudgy little face against Hermione's when she awoke on Christmas morning to being smothered by her familiar.
"Morning…C-Crooks" Hermione yawned, scratching the cat in that little spot under his chin that he liked. "Happy Christmas!"
At the foot of her bed sat a pile of presents that the House-elves had left during the wee hours of the morning, when the owls from home had arrived. Amongst the usual collection of books and clothes from her friends and family, Hermione had received a few notable items. There was the cheques of money from her remaining grandparents, extended family members had joined together to gift her with a substantial amount of Muggle money, plus toys and a new collar for Crookshanks (red and green with a bow on the back and a silver bell on the front, next to his name tag).
Her parents had sent a package of floral dresses and shirts (some of them looked to have come straight out of her mother's wardrobe), plus a couple of new books from a Muggle author they thought she'd like. Ron and Harry had, predictably, given her a collection of sweets from Honeydukes (mostly Sugar Quills and chocolate). Mrs Weasley's Christmas package contained the year's new Christmas sweater (grey and had been polka-dotted with pink love hearts—Hermione supposed that Ginny had mentioned her secret admirer, in one of her letters), and a large quantity of homemade mince pies.
Shifting through the discarded wrapping paper (that Crookshanks was having a grand ole time ripping to shreds), Hermione found the last of her presents stacked together. From Emilia she received a pocket-sized Wizarding Wireless Radio complete with a few Wizarding cassettes that included a note that told her to listen to her favourites.
Hermione chuckled at the joke presents she received from Charlotte and Sophie—both of course, pertaining to her new cravings as an otter animagus. However, the Cockroach Clusters, chocolate fish, tinned fish and caramelised/roasted insects would still be eaten (something that definitely would've made her stomach turn last year—willingly eating bugs? No thanks!).
"Oh my Hecate…" Hermione whispered slightly embarrassed at what Luna had sent her. Inside the chaotically patterned wrapping paper lay one of the complicated pieces of lingerie the two witches had laughed over some days prior. Not only that but an obnoxiously pink dildo lay next to it; one that started vibrating rather loudly when she bumped it. "Ah! No! Shush!" She hurried to turn it off before she woke her roommates.
"Phew…okay" She sighed when she was finally able to turn off the vibrating monstrosity. Slipping Luna's gift under her pillow, she turned to the last two in front of her. Reaching for the smaller the two, Hermione saw that it was from Victoria and after unwrapping it, felt the blush instantly crawl across her cheeks. In her hands sat a miniature sculpture of Lupin made completely of chocolate alongside several boxes of Honeydukes/Muggle chocolates. The note attached read:
Otto,
So you don't have to steal his stash anymore!
Whiskers
"Cheeky…" Hermione grinned, setting the chocolate aside making note to either eat it quickly or hide it away. She did not need Lavender seeing that or she would get all sorts of ideas. The last present was wrapped in Quidditch-themed paper and was addressed to her rough writing. Viktor's gift was simple and sweet; much like many of her friends and family he had gotten her a book, only this one pertained to old magics. "He remembered…" She smiled, thinking back to when he had sensually traced her Triple Goddess tattoo whilst they had laid on the rocky lakeside. Alongside the book, he had gifted her with a silver arm cuff that was designed to look like a leafy vine wrapped around her upper arm. It was beautifully simple.
Later that day, Hermione met up with Harry and Ron in the common room where they spent most of the morning watching enjoying their presents before they went down to the Great Hall for lunch. There was no Christmas dinner today, as the ball would include a feast, so the House-elves had gone all out for the lunch. Christmas lunch had been fantastic; all the tables were lined with hundreds of turkeys and honey-glazed hams and roasted chickens, with Christmas puddings and mince pies dotted throughout the spare spaces. There was even large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers spread out around the tables, filling the Great Hall with the sound of bangs and pops when they were broken open.
When the afternoon rolled around, the trio went out onto the grounds where the snow lay untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students going to and from their accomodations. With brightly coloured paper hats on their heads and full bellies, they met up with Fred, George and Ginny, and quickly fell into a snowball war that ended in joyous laughter and teasing taunts.
When five o'clock sprung upon them, Hermione announced that she and Ginny were heading back to the castle to get ready for the Yule Ball. "What, you need three hours?" Ron asked incredulously, and paid for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, nailed him in the back of the head. "Who're you going with?" He yelled after the witches, but Hermione merely waved over her shoulder. Ginny flipped him the bird and tottered off after Hermione.
Upon arriving at the portrait hole, the two witches found that the Fat Lady had already started her celebrations with her friend, Violet from downstairs, and the two were lounging around her frame with several boxes of empty chocolate liquors between the two witches. "Fairy lights" Hermione supplied the password.
"Lairy fights! That's the one!" Giggled the Fat Lady and swung forward to let them inside.
The first thing that Hermione had done upon returning to her dorm room was head straight for the showers with a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and her new Wizarding Wireless radio. After transfiguring one of the soap dishes into a porcelain clawed bath; it was filled with a combination of floral bath salts, oils and several slices of citrus. Several of the floating candles were lit and dripped wax down onto the floor, but Hermione paid them no mind as she stepped into the tub. With one of Emilia's Weird Sisters cassettes echoing around the cavernous room, Hermione relaxed into the water and left herself to soak.
When the dusk began to melt into night and her fingers were all wrinkly, Hermione finally removed herself from the bathtub. A quick rinse in the shower got rid of the lingering bath salts and pulp still stuck to her skin, and a quick drying charm took care of the wet hair plastered to her neck. Wrapped up in fluffy towel, she came out of the bubble-filled bathroom and emerged into a whirlwind of make-up and hair.
Lavender and Parvati had commandeered the large chestnut vanity leaving Hermione to deal with the Talking Mirror, which had thankfully long since lost its voice. Turning away from the mirror, Hermione moved over to her pouch that sat on her bed. Closing all of her curtains and after making sure that they were enchanted shut, she descended into the depths of her pouch where her burgundy off-the-shoulder dress was hung from the doorway.
Drifting to the bathroom in the back of the house, Hermione set to work doing her hair and make-up. With her hair now free of its usual tight curls, she was able to mould it into a more manageable hair-do that was suitable for the Ball. After a couple of tries Hermione was able to braid back her hair into two waterfall plaits. Following that, she pulled her plaits into braided space buns that sat at the base of her head. A couple of wisps fell from the do, and she left them to fall where they may.
Make-up had never been one of Hermione's strongest suits, so she decided to just go with the bare minimum. A little blush here, a little mascara there, lips lined with red, eyes popped with honey-coloured eye shadow and framed by long lashes. A quick Tempus charm showed that she had about an hour left to get changed.
Moving out of the bathroom, after making a detour to her bedroom where she retrieved her jewellery and shoes, Hermione returned to the main room where her dress hung from the doorway. Placing the Wizarding Wireless next to her father's boombox, Hermione danced around the kitchen in nothing but her towel as Annie Lennox's 'I Put a Spell on You' prattled out. Bopping along to the tune, she laid out her jewellery pieces on the dining table along with the shoes and pasties she planned to wear. "All right!" She clapped her hands, "Let's get started!"
Due to the swooping nature of the skirt, she was able to wear underwear that she felt comfortable in, instead of a thong or a g-string like she had worried. Who wanted to spend the night with a string up their butt?…Well, Emilia might, but that's another story…Hermione shook off the image as she slipped on the lacy pair of underwear before she started to try and place the finicky pasties on her nipples.
When she was finally happy with how they sat, she next turned to her shoes. The heels were a gorgeous silver in colour with a three-inch wedged heel, (Sophie had complained many a-time about the uncomfortableness of stilettos and pressed her to get wedges or at least something with a wide based heel). Whilst her toes remained uncovered, the straps covering the front of her foot were styled in a gladiator imitation of matted silver.
Next went her wand holster. Instead of it sitting on her forearm or in her hair like it usually was, she had strapped her holster to her outer right thigh. There it would be nicely hidden by the dress, but was easily accessible through the small pocket that had been craftily altered for this very reason.
Following the undergarments came the dress. After unzipping the back, she stepped into it making sure not to get her heels caught on the little sleeves or the long skirt. Eventually—after much fiddling with the zipper—she had the dress on. Twirling around, she was happy with the new length of the dress, falling only mere centimetres from the ground. Long enough that it covered her feet, but short enough that she was sure she would be able to move without tripping over it. Another feature of the dress that she enjoyed was how the back of the dress dipped low enough for you to view her coven tattoo in its dormant state.
Finally came the jewellery. First she exchanged her usual moon studs for the pair of dangly pair of earrings she had inherited from her mother. Made of several layers of silver leaves, the earrings were no longer than her thumb and each ended in a small silver bell that tinkled softly as she moved. The leafy cuff she had received from Viktor was slipped onto her right forearm, where it snugly sat against the skin. To top it all off, she placed the silver wreath headband (a birthday gift from Luna) on her head, completing the look.
The egg timer she had set upon arrival, went off, telling her that she should be making her way back to the dorm if she wanted to get to the Great Hall on time. Climbing up the two-step ladder in heels was a lot harder than Hermione ever thought it would be, but soon enough she was back on her bed and brushing down the last of the wrinkles on the skirt after scooting off of the bed.
After sliding her wand into the holster at her thigh, Hermione turned back to her bed and pulled the drawstrings shut on her pouch. Following the purchase of her new dress, she had transfigured the outside to a burgundy red that matched her dress and a quick Scourgify had seen to the cat fur or anonymous stains on the material. Looping the strings through the belt loops on her hips, Hermione pulled the small bag around until it rested comfortably at her left hip.
Looking herself over in the Talking Mirror, she saw not the bookish witch who loved florals that she had come to know, but instead a princess or a lady who had stepped straight out from one of her childhood fairy tale books. Most—like Ron— didn't think she was actually attending the Ball because she couldn't find a date, or because she was too proud to say who she was going with. I'll make their jaws drop tonight! She smirked vindictively, They'll wish they were me!
Lavender and Parvati had left earlier to meet up with dates, having snagged lads from different Houses and agreeing to meet up with them at the Great Hall. Parvati had somehow gotten Harry, whilst Lavender was going with a Hufflepuff she had been cooing over for weeks on end. Hermione was pretty sure she could tell you the boy's favourite uncle—and she had never even met him! After double-checking that she had everything, Hermione too, headed down to the Great Hall.
Nerves abound, Hermione ended up meeting Viktor not at the Great Hall as planned, but out on the lawn in front of the castle where the other Durmstrang lads and their dates were lining up behind Karkaroff to make a grand entrance. The section of lawn that she could see had been transformed into a sort-of fairy grotto full of fairy lights (meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of Father Christmas and his reindeer).
"Sei still, mine schlagende vagina…" Hermione breathed quietly, tickled pink as she looked over the structured dress robes of the Durmstrang lads as they came up the frosty path. Although they all wore the same variation of formal dress robes, each wizard had personalised their own robes to fit themselves. In Viktor's case, the red shirt, belted at the waist, clung to his figure just right, outlining his sharp edges and tall figure. The neatly trimmed fur-lined cape of the same red hung effortlessly from his left shoulder and was held there by another belt which ran across his chest. Dark pants tucked into black dragon hide boots completed the ensemble.
Looking at him as a whole, it was easy to see the homage he was paying to his homeland as well as the little nod towards traditional Christmas customs. The fact that the pair of them matched the colour of their outfits within the same shade, certainly helped to signify the couple's partnership even if they never verbally said so themselves.
"палавница" Viktor came forth and very gentlemanly kissed her knuckles, his own cheeks coloured slightly as his eyes roved over her form. Mindless of the stares that they were receiving from others around them (Karkaroff being one of them), he tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow. Hermione was pleased to note that more than one person they passed had physically dropped their jaw. "You look…"
"Thank you" Hermione smiled, "You clean up nicely, as well"
Soon enough, the front oak doors opened and all eyes were on them. With Karkaroff at the helm, the witches and wizards descended into the Entrance Hall with heads held high. Students milled around as they waited for eight o'clock to arrive, many of them hurrying about as they tried to find the dates they had procured in the days prior.
"Champions! Over here, please!" McGonagall's voice called, breaking Hermione from her musings; though at the sight of the Transfiguration, tried not to do a double-take at what she was seeing. The Professor had garbed herself in dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat; clearly she was showing her own patronage to her homeland as well.
Shooing the champions over to one side of the room, they were told to wait their with their dates whilst everyone else went in and found a place to sit. They were to enter the Great Hall in procession with Fleur & Roger Davies stationed at the front and Harry & Parvati at the back.
Glancing over everyone's partners, Hermione saw that Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Probably the Veela in her. Hermione mused. Then there was Cedric and Cho Chang (Harry's current crush, though the boy would never say anything) who appeared smitten with each other. And finally there was Harry and Parvati, who had gone for robes of black and white and hot pink that were accented in shocking orange and bangles of gold respectively.
"Hi Harry!" Hermione waved to her friend and his date when she and Viktor joined up with the other champions, "Hi Parvati!" Parvati was gazing at Hermione in unabashedly disbelief and she hadn't been the only one. When the doors to the Great Hall had opened, Viktor's fan club had glared at her when they had stalked passed, tugging on their dates' arms as they went; but for once, Hermione couldn't care less. Pansy had gaped as she passed by on Malfoy's arm; and even he hadn't been able to throw a single insult her way, which was a nice change. Ron, however, had glared sourly at the pair before walking straight through the doors without looking back.
Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, McGonagall returned to tell the champions and their partners to get in line and follow her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as Hermione clutched onto Viktor's arm and prayed that she wouldn't fall on her ass in front of everyone. The procession of champions and their dates followed after the elder witch and everyone in the Great Hall applauded at their entrance, even up until they sat down at the large round table at the top of the Hall where the judges were sitting.
Glancing around as they walked, Hermione was able to see that the Great Hall had been covered in sparkling silver frost with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy that crossed the starry black ceiling. The House tables had removed, instead replaced with around a hundred small round lantern-lit tables that each easily sat about dozen or so.
Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore a sour expression that was remarkably similar to Ron's as he watched Hermione and Viktor draw nearer. Bagma—tonight in robes of bright purple dotted with large yellow stars—was clapping as enthusiastically as the students; and Maxime, who had exchanged her usual black satin gown for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding politely. Mr Crouch wasn't there, but Percy Weasley was and wearing a look of smugness that Hermione had never known.
When the champions and their partners reached the table, Viktor kindly pulled out Hermione's chair for her before sitting himself down beside her. All around them, witches and wizards seated themselves around the judges already gathered at the table, many already engaging in conversation or staring around at the decorated Hall.
Unlike regular feasts at Hogwarts, the food had yet to arrive on the glittering golden plates, but there were small menus lying in front of each of them. Each item on the menus had been written in all three native languages of the Wizarding schools, which Hermione thought was a nice touch. Picking up her own menu, Hermione cracked it open but looked around uncertainly as she was unable to see any waiters or servers of any kind.
Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu before declaring "Pork chops!" towards his plate, and sure enough, pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders as well, along with the rest of the students in the Hall.
Although, Hermione had chosen the schnitzel, she ended up picking at more than anything as she was drawn into a conversation with Viktor. "…Vell, ve have a castle also, not as big as dis, nor as comfortable, I am dinking" He told Hermione, "Ve have just four floors, and the fire are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds ever larger dan dese—dough in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying dim. But in summer ve are flying everyday over the lakes and mountains—"
"Now, now, Viktor!" Karkaroff laughed, his smile not reaching his cold eyes. "Don't go giving away anything else now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"
"Igor, all this secrecy…" Dumbledore replied with eyes twinkling before Hermione was able to, "One would almost think you didn't want visitors"
"Vell, Dumbeldore, ve are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do ve not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are ve not right to be proud that ve alone know our school's secrets, and the right to protect them?"
"Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor. Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turn to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots—"
Hermione tried to hide her grin behind her goblet as the Hogwarts' headmaster continued to prattle on about loos, "—When I went back to investigate more closely, the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly as it is the only accessible bathroom at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon—or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder"
Across the table, Harry snorted into his goulash whilst Percy frowned at the blatant disrespect shown towards the foreign headmaster. Meanwhile Fleur was criticising Hogwarts again. This time it seemed to be the decorations; only Davies held her ear.
"Zis is nothing" She waved dismissively, "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Christmas. Zey do not melt, of course…zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of his ugly armour in ze 'alls, and elf a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat" She snapped her fingers, solidifying her point.
Davies appeared to be only watching and not listening to the French witch, a very dazed look upon his face and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. Fleur didn't seem to notice, too busy complaining about the "ugly castle" that was Hogwarts. It was clear to Hermione that the wizard was paying her words no mind, however. Ron had worn a similar look many a-time; usually when he was thinking about food or Quidditch—or lately, Krum.
It was rather easy to pick out Hagrid amongst the other tables; his large stature easily towering over those he sat with. He dressed in the horribly hairy brown suit he had worn to Buckbeak's trial last year, and was gazing up at the top table. He gave a small wave which was returned by Maxime whose opal eyes glittered in the candlelight.
When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to join him. Then, with a wave of his wand all the tables zoomed over to the back walls where they stacked themselves in neat piles, leaving the floor clear. With another flick of the wrist, he conjured a raised platform into existence along the front of the Hall, where the staff table usually sat. A set of drurms, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it.
From the side chambers (where the Champions had been escorted to on the first night after the choosing) The Weird Sisters trooped up onto the stage with wild applause and cheers following them. All of the band members were rather hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn, reminding Hermione of the grunge trend that was rather popular in the Muggle community.
"палавница, may I have this dance?" Viktor offered his hand to Hermione, pulling the grinning witch from her seat and over to the dance floor where the other Champions were lining up with their partners. Hands settling on waist and shoulder, the chosen witches and wizards began to dance to the gentle waltz being played by the band. Cleary not a piece that was usually in their wheelhouse, The Weird Sisters played the three-beat music for them as they spun, twisted and glided across the dance floor. By this point, the other students had gathered around them in a ring, watching them officially open the Ball. It was only when they had done three circuits of the dance floor that others began to join them.
First it was Dumbledore and McGonagall, then Neville and Ginny, Luna and Francois and so on and so forth until every single student was smashed together on the dance floor. Soon enough, the slow mournful tune gave way to something more upbeat and punchy; one that reminded her of an AC/DC or Queen song.
Enthusiastic cheers and whistles sounded from the students gathered and they rushed the stage like fans at a concert. The dancing became less organised and more wild, many of the older students grinding against or holding their dates close. The few teachers who had been waltzing pushed themselves out of the thriving throng of students before wandering back over to the sides where they could watch without hovering over the students.
So lost in the beat of the music and the heat of bodies pushed up against her, Hermione couldn't help the face-cracking grin that had split her face. Viktor's hands gripped at her waist, running up her spine and pulling her close as the two swayed and moved to the music. Viktor's eyes gleamed in the candlelight and an uncharacteristic grin marred his features as he danced with the little witch; he too enjoying his time with her.
What had felt like a couple of songs but was really an hour or two later, Hermione emerged from the throng of bodies and made her way over to where Harry and Ron sat sulking at one of the free tables. Harry had seemingly lost his date to a Beaxubatons fellow and Padma was alternating between glaring at Ron and stuffing her face with the dessert finger foods and egg nog on the table.
"Hi" Harry greeted as Hermione plopped herself into Parvati's empty chair, a little pink from all the dancing.
"It's hot, isn't it?" Hermione fanned herself with her hand, "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks, do you want to join us?"
"Viktor?" Ron gave her a withering look, "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"
"What's up with you?" Hermione turned to the ginger, surprised.
"If you don't know, I'm not telling you"
Hermione spared a glance at Harry who shrugged, "Ron, what—?"
"He's from Durmstrang!" Ron spat, "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You—you're…fraternising with the enemy! That's what you're doing!"
"Don't be so stupid!" Hermione's jaw dropped at the accusation, "The enemy! Honestly!—Who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?" Hermione stood up, hands on hips as she confronted Ron.
"I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?" Ron completely ignored her.
"No, actually he didn't"
"Oh?"
"He took me on a dinner date and then he asked me" The pink patches on her cheeks glowed a little brighter.
"Oh shag him, did you?" Ron spat, turning a ugly shade of red as his frustrations and jealousy took a hold of him. Off to the side, both Harry and Padma looked like they were pretending to mind their own business, but stayed to watch like it was a car wreck. Hermione grew quiet, her eyes narrowing on the redhead as she replied.
"What did you just say?" She asked, her voice cold in her fury.
"You heard me" Ron, thinking he had the last word, smirked villainously. However, with a brain full of spells and as a witch suddenly on the warpath, Hermione bent at the waist until she was eye-to-eye with Ron.
"Ofgiefan mîn wana râd efensârgung. Tôh hê sînl¯ædan bêga ðanc, pron ðe ic êower m¯ædencild andig râd êower healsgebedda!" She practically snarled the old spell making Padma gasped in surprise and sit up when she recognised what happened next. For a moment or two nothing seemed to happen and then all at once, the crotch of Ron's pants began to move as if something was struggling to get out.
And something was. In a burst of feathers, a little yellow canary burst through the fabric of his dress robes, leaving behind a rather large hole that made it look like Fang had chewed it to pieces. Hermione's hand swung out and snatched the little yellow bird from the air, and clasped it tightly in her fist as she stroked the head of the little bird. Ron's face contorted from the jealous frustration he had been feeling before into something of pleasure as his eyes fluttered and threatened to roll up into the back of his head.
Harry stared at his ginger friend in shock, before his wide eyes travelled to the smirking witch standing before them. Off to the side, Padma sat gleefully giggling behind her hands (whether due to the copious amounts of egg nog she'd drunk or because she knew what the spell was for). Hermione bent down to Ron's eye level once more as she transfigured a piece of the silverware into a small birdcage and dropped it (bird and all) into the depths of her pouch. "You should be very glad that there are witnesses, Ronald, otherwise there's no saying what I would do to you"
Standing up to her full height once more, she turned to Padma who still sat giggling in her seat. "Padma, would you like to join us? A couple of us are thinking of throwing an afterparty" Hermione offered the bored witch.
"YES!" Padma all but jumped to her feet at the offer.
"And where do you plan to do that?" Ron spat, intent on having the last word, even if it killed him. "Surely, you're not gonna rock the ship?"
Hermione, full of barely controlled fury turned a glare to him, "Until you've developed some manners, don't talk to me" She snarled, turning sharply on her heel and dragging the other witch with her back into the heaving crowd still on the dance floor.