A/N- Hope you all are able to see this! Has anyone else been having problems with recently? Anyway, this is another multipart chapter- The Memorial Ball.
~Dot
When Hermione initially landed in the fireplace of the Ministry of Magic, she worried she was in the wrong place. It looked nothing like it had the last time she was there. Though, to be fair, the last time she was there Voldemort was in control.
She hurriedly stepped out of the fireplace, having been momentarily stunned by the changes. There were temporary walls blocking the atrium with arches scattered here and there for guests to enter. Wizards in crisp white suits lined the arches, checking guests in. There were hoards of people waiting on the outskirts of the atrium, some in line to enter and others (largely reporters, from what Hermione could tell) trying to get a glimpse or picture of the esteemed guests.
Hermione got in line with the rest of the Weasleys. She found her hands were shaking with anticipation, though she couldn't tell if it was due to wondering what awaited them through the arches, or the prospect of being in front of all of these people to receive her award. As the line she was in began to move forward, she was able to peek through the arches and see what awaited her.
The atrium was tiled in black and green foreboding tiles, however, nothing else looked the same. The horrid statue of the pained and dumb-looking muggles was thankfully gone- replaced with a portable stage. There were tables lining the room, with their golden tablecloths and white orchid table settings heavily contrasting the darkness of the room. There was a golden dance floor glimmering in the lights of an elephant-sized chandelier at the centre of the space and to its right was a modest bandstand. Music wafted in and out of the expansive space, sending tingles down Hermione's spine.
Hermione reached the usher and handed him her wand for identification. Thankfully, she had her original wand back. It had been mailed to her weeks ago, having been found in the debris from the Battle of Hogwarts. She couldn't stand using Bellatrix's wand, and it didn't seem like Olivander's would be opening soon, so she was lucky that they found her (and Ron's) wands.
The usher confirmed her identity and then asked to check her robe. Hermione shot a glance at Ginny, who was pretending not to hear. She peered into the ballroom and could see that all of the witches and wizards were robeless. With some disconcertment, Hermione handed the usher her robe, exposing the lack of fabric on the back of her dress. She moved to enter the makeshift ballroom and caught Ron staring at her, his eyes wide. His response made Hermione chuckle to herself, reminding her of when he had first seen her dressed up, earlier that day.
He was the first to see her after she, Ginny, and Fleur prepared for the prestigious event. Thankfully, Hermione was not left to her own devices when getting ready. If she had been, she likely would be without makeup and with her telltale frizzy hair. Fleur had helped her with her makeup and tamed her unruly hair, while Ginny helped put scar-disappearing cream on her back, just in case. Now, looking back, Ginny must have known that they would be asked to take off their witches robes.
To say that Ron was shocked by her transformation was an understatement when he saw her earlier. His mouth laid agape when she had caught him in the stairwell. He had reached out and touched her waist with trepidation- like he wasn't sure he was allowed.
"You're beautiful," Ron whispered into Hermione's ear, sending shivers down her spine. She went to respond, but Ron stopped her, pressing his lips to hers; not letting her respond. Hermione was almost the same deep red colour as her dress when they were interrupted by Fleur and Ginny coming down the stairs. Hermione was almost the same deep red colour as her dress when they were interrupted by Fleur and Ginny coming down the stairs.
Ginny had made a gagging noise when she saw them but quickly passed them by, looking eager to see Harry. Ron and Hermione stayed back for a minute, and Hermione was finally able to get a good look at Ron. His hair had been smoothed down, though it still had a hint of stubbornness that she had grown to love, and his face was stubble-free. He was wearing a new wizards robe, one in a dark blue and Hermione could see a cream coloured waistcoat underneath it. Everything he wore fit him impeccably, something that was rare when it came to his clothing. Hermione felt as though she was in a Jane Austen book, with words like dashing and debonair coming to mind to describe him. Though, instead of those words, she chose to tell him how handsome he looked.
The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were instructed to sit at the same table- the one closest to the stage. All of the Weasleys had made it, much to Hermione's surprise. Charlie had portkeyed in the day before, Percy arrived at the burrow right before they floo'd together to the Ministry, and even George had come. Though he was not himself- he seemed disjointed and not-really-there; nothing like the life of the party he used to be.
They were quickly offered the finest Goblin wine (not that Hermione could tell the difference) and given a menu of the dinner. Ron licked his lips while reading the menu and whispered in Hermione's ear that he purposely ate a light lunch for the occasion. Despite what he said, Hermione was sure that she had seen him eat two sandwiches for lunch.
They weren't sitting for long, as it felt like the entirety of the ball's guests wanted to talk to them. After an exhausting amount of thank yous and much too personal questions, they finally found their friends. Neville was also receiving an Order of Merlin (along with Headmistress McGonagall) and he was sitting with his very enthusiastic grandmother on one side of him and Luna on the other.
Ginny was the first to find them and engulfed them both in a tight squeeze as they immediately began chatting. She expertly darted questions about the next Hogwarts school year and called over Harry, Ron, and Hermione to talk with them. Their group soon grew, as anyone who fought in the final battle was invited, along with their families.
Beyond catching up, they got to hear more tales of the last year at Hogwarts; something that Ginny had largely avoided talking about at home. While most of the stories were sad or scary in some way, they were talked about with laughter and pride. Seamus boastfully lifted up his shirt and showed off the scars he had "earned" from the vicious treatment of the Carrows. Many of the young men seemed jubilant, more jubilant than someone who had only one glass of wine. Hermione wondered to herself if they had a bit of a pre-party before arriving.
If Hermione closed her eyes, she could imagine they were back in the common room at Hogwarts- the fire roaring as they talked about their adventures and incompetent professors. She felt a comfortable warmth grow in her and couldn't tell if it was from the wine or being with her friends again.
However, the joy quickly faded as the discussion changed to the friends who were no longer with them. Pavarti's eyes filled with tears as they told stories about how Lavender had used her flirtiness to distract unsuspecting Slytherins whilst the DA planted dungbombs across the corridors. No one had a dry face when the discussion moved towards Colin and the pictures he had taken to help rally the school, some of which Dennis had brought and shown the group.
A voice echoed through the room, and Hermione couldn't help but flashback to when Voldemort had talked to them during the battle. But this time it was a soothing witch's voice saying that the first course was about to be served. Ron took Hermione's arm (which cued an echo of wolf whistles from Seamus, Dean, and Ernie) and led her back to their seats eagerly.
Hermione was pleased to see that Lee, Katie, and Angelina were crowded around George and laughing. It had been so long since she, or anyone, had seen him laugh. They were eventually shooed away, and the first course (a salad, much to Ron's dismay) was served.
They had just finished their last course of chocolate mousse when Kingsley walked to the stage. Applause deafened the room before he was even able to begin his speech. Hermione's heart rate seemed to speed up as the applause trickled away- she knew what was coming.
Kingsley welcomed everyone in a deep, booming voice. He talked about the trials of the last year and the purpose of the memorial ball- to remember and to celebrate. His words were woven like a fine tapestry and he had everyone captivated. There was not a peep from the guests, that is until he mentioned the Order of Merlin.
Cheers rang out as he listed the names of the awardees, some Hermione knew and others she had only heard of. He then, one-by-one, gave an overview of why each person was receiving the honour.
Much to Hermione's dismay, he went alphabetically and he spoke of her first. He talked about everything she had done, from her first year to her last, even mentioning that she was a "champion for magical creatures rights." Her stomach was twisted the entire time he spoke. She was not one for attention and felt like she could feel every other person in the room's eyes on her. She felt uncomfortable and something else that she could only recognise as despair. She couldn't help but think of her parents, and how impressed they might be; she longed for them to be there.
Finally, he moved on to the next honouree (though not after raucous applause). When he got to Harry, everyone stood synchronically, though no one instructed them too. Through the applause and cheers, Hermione could see that Harry was miserable, however hard he trying to put on a smile.
Eventually, Kingsley got to Ron, who had grabbed Hermione's hand under the table as soon as Kingsley said Ro-. He blushed and beamed as Kingsley talked of his bravery. Molly dabbed her eyes throughout his speech and, as soon as he was done, Bill gave Ron a too-hard pat on the back almost causing Ron to fall out of his chair.
When the talk of each recipient's achievements was over, they were asked to join Kingsley on the stage. Thankfully, they did not have to line up alphabetically, and Hermione positioned herself between Ron and Harry.
Being on the stage was disorienting. There were bright white lights shining on them, making it near impossible to see the guests at their tables. Kingsley's voice seemed quieter on the stage, and Hermione struggled to make out what he was saying.
Ron was first out of the trio to get his medal, and Hermione couldn't help but smile when he walked back to her with a bit of swagger, accentuating the metal hanging from his chest. Hermione then received her medal, though she stumbled as she kneeled as she was not used to balancing in heels. Harry was next, and before they knew it they were being ushered back to their seats.
The cheerful feelings in the room soon diminished, as the agenda changed from celebration to memorial. Kingsley spoke of bravery and sacrifice in such a way that no eyes were dry. When he finished his moving speech, something that looked similar to a projection screen floated down beside him. A pianist began to play a melancholy tune as a black-and-white moving picture was displayed on the screen.
The first person shown was not someone Hermione knew, though, after Kingsley's remarks about him, she felt like she did. Next was Lavender Brown, and Hermione could feel Ron suck in a breath when her picture came up. Colin was next, then more and more pictures came up, some of older people and some of those so young Hermione was sure they couldn't be of age.
By the time Fred's picture came up, she was fully crying. And she wasn't alone- the atrium was no longer quiet, as sniffles and sobs rang out, echoing due to the raised ceiling. Kingsley gave a wonderful speech about Fred and his humour and hijinks mixed with bravery and strong-will. By the time the memorial section was over, Hermione felt exhausted. But, looking at her watch, she knew the night was only just beginning.