A/N: I know, it's been a while. Life has been very busy. And yet, my muse never shut up about this story even when I didn't have time for her – until a few weeks ago, when she was finally fed up with me, tackled me to the ground and forced me to actually continue this. So, here we are. Even better, the next handful of chapters are also progressing nicely. There should be more updates soon(-ish)... :)

- CHAPTER TWELVE -

Yule Ball for Two

"How can there be this many people in one place?" Harry complained as they navigated through the dense crowds of people at the Piazza Navona in the centre of Rome. "I thought most tourists would visit Rome during summer, not winter."

"They actually do," Hermione replied, having to speak loudly over all the chatter in dozens of different languages around them. "But this is the most popular place to visit in the city during Christmastime."

Surrounding the busy market square were many small stalls of local artisans and food vendors, which made up the traditional Roman Christmas market. It was two days before the holidays, and the scenery truly tried to put the visitors into the proper Christmas spirit. All of the stands and most buildings were decked with colourful decorations, and a large Christmas tree had been erected in the centre of the piazza next to a carousel for children.

"It is quite nice," Harry admitted grudgingly, taking in the festive scenery. "I get why people would come here. I'm just saying it would be even nicer if they didn't."

Hermione laughed at his irritation over the crowds. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad! And it's good for us, too. Where better to hide than in such a huge crowd?"

"Isn't that what our disguise is for?" he grumbled.

"Okay, yes, I give you that," she conceded the point. It was indeed true that they didn't have to worry about being recognised no matter how many or how few people surrounded them. They had once again taken a small dose of Ageing Potion, and their faces were even further concealed by the woollen caps and scarves that they were wearing on the unusually cold day, the coldest day so far for them in Italy.

Over the last weeks, they had been travelling along the coast, changing their location every few days. They had made stops in the port cities of Nice and Genoa, had visited Florence with its historical old town and Pisa with its world-famous Leaning Tower, and had spent a few days camping at the sparsely populated coast between Florence and Rome. Now, they had put up their tent in the wooded hillsides a few miles north-west of the Italian capital, from where Harry had flown them to the centre of the cluttered city today.

"Now, do we have to take this street or the next one?" Hermione wondered, having lost her sense of direction as they continued pushing their way through the crowds.

"The signpost there says Piazza di Trevi is down to the left. That should work for us, right?" Harry replied.

"Yeah, I think so," she agreed, and they made a turn into the slightly less busy street. It would take them a while, however, before they would reach their destination. The entrance to the city's magical quarter was still a good walk away.

When they had planned their outing earlier that day, they had made the decision to not go directly to the magical quarter but spend some time visiting the city first. And even when Rome was much more packed with tourists than she had expected for this time of the year, Hermione still thought that it had been the right call. It was an impressive city, packed with so much history everywhere. They walked down narrow streets amidst ancient houses and palaces, passing the Pantheon and the famous Trevi Fountain along the way, until they reached another large square, the Piazza Venetia with its large marble monument and other palaces surrounding it.

"That's better," Harry said with a sigh of relief as they left the overcrowded alleys behind them.

"Yeah. And look!" she pointed at the Colosseum in the distance. "That's where we have to go, more or less."

They took a wide avenue leading up to the ancient arena. Now, an array of ruins scattered the area to their side. The Forum Romanum, as she recalled it from the travel guide she had read earlier that day.

Before they reached the Colosseum, they made a sharp turn into an ancient cobblestone street, which was dominated by a large marble arch in front of them. It reminded Hermione of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, though she knew that this one, the Arch of Titus, was much older.

Tourists were milling around, taking pictures, but she and Harry were not here for the sights, or at least not for the most part. This was their destination, the entrance to one of Europe's oldest and largest magical quarters.

"So, how does it work?" Harry wondered.

"We just have to walk through it, right?" she replied.

"Yeah, that's what the books said..."

Slowly, they walked towards the arch and stepped under it. Nothing happened at first, but then they made another step forward and just as they passed the arch, Hermione's vision blurred and the scenery in front of her changed completely.

Gone were the ruins and the crowds of tourists, and instead a huge elongated plaza extended before them, which had much fewer people strolling around, most of whom wearing wizarding robes. The square was plastered with white polished marble, and seven moving statues stood in its centre arranged around a wide golden bowl that spouted a fire of blue flames.

"Wow!" Harry exclaimed, looking around with amazement. "This is a nice change of pace to all those cramped streets!"

"Yeah..." Hermione breathed, equally impressed by the magic that kept this place hidden as well as by the beautiful elegance of it. This was nothing like Diagon Alley or even the magical quarter they had visited in Marseilles. Almost the entire plaza was lined with stately houses of white marble, with shops behind rows of high arcades. Several even larger and more imposing buildings stood at the far end of the square, and she suspected them to house the Italian wizarding government. And a bank, too, she hoped, as she reminded herself that they needed to exchange some money.

"Let's see if we can find a bank over there," she suggested.

"Wanna bet on whether their exchange rates will be as terrible as at Gringotts?" Harry asked good-naturedly as they walked along and slowly traversed the large plaza.

"This is such a nice place," she replied, "it'd be a shame if their society was as corrupt and bigoted as Magical Britain."

"Yeah, that's true," her boyfriend agreed before he pointed his finger at one of the buildings. "That house there kinda looks like a bank, by the way."

When they drew nearer, it became evident that Harry had guessed correctly, judging by the security guards outside and the sign above the entrance that read 'Sede del Banco magica dei Maghi di Roma' – which she couldn't understand exactly, but Banco sounded pretty much like bank to her.

Hermione and Harry passed the guards as they stepped through the doors and entered a large foyer in a simplistic but elegant classicist style. They had to wait for almost twenty minutes in the queue in front of the counters, but then they were able to exchange Galleons into the local wizarding currency as well as into Italian Lira at rates that she indeed considered much more reasonable than those of Gringotts – if they had wanted to, they could have exchanged their Galleons first into Lira and then into British Pounds in a Muggle bank and ended up with more Pounds than they'd have got from Gringotts. She decided to keep it in mind for the future.

"Where do you want to go next?" she asked Harry when they left the bank.

"The owl post office for the letter to Sirius?" he suggested and gave her a grin. "Let's get that out of the way first before we spend the rest of the day in a bookshop."

"It will be an hour at most, I promised!" she reminded him with a chuckle. "But all right, let's see if we can find the owl post office first."

They walked along the arcades until they came onto a small shop with seemingly hundreds of owls lined up on perches on each side of a narrow room. They had to dodge several owls flying around when they entered and approached the clerk behind the counter.

"Buon pomeriggio, signorina, signore, come posso aiutarla?" the man greeted them.

"Ah, uhm..." Hermione hesitated. "Please, do you speak English?"

"Yes, signorina, of course," the clerk replied fluidly, albeit with a heavy accent. "How can I help you?"

"We'd like to send a letter to Britain. Can you tell us how long it will take an owl to get there?"

"Two or three days. Four, if weather is bad," the clerk answered. "But you pay for the express, special charms, and it will only be a few hours."

"No, a few days is fine," Harry replied, and Hermione nodded in agreement. It would allow them more time before they had to change their location again. They didn't know if Sirius would be able to determine where the owl was coming from, but they preferred not to take any risks. By the time Sirius got the letter, they wanted to be somewhere else.

"Good. One standard owl delivery to Britain," the clerk said. "That will be twelve Denarii."

Harry counted out some of the silver coins they had exchanged before and handed them over the counter. "There you go, sir."

"Thank you, signor. You can pick one of the owls on the left and send it off," the clerk instructed them.

They turned towards the birds, and Harry halted as he surveyed the dozens of owls in front of him. Hermione mused that it would've taken him much less time to pick one if there had been a snowy owl among them. She knew that he still missed Hedwig. As it was, Harry needed a moment to decide until he strode to a small grey owl that had been watching them curiously the entire time.

"Hey there," he greeted the animal that watched him with intelligent eyes. "Can you deliver a letter to Britain for me?"

The owl hooted and held out its leg, allowing Harry to tie the letter to it.

"Now, don't tell this to anyone, but this letter is for Sirius Black," he then whispered jokingly to the owl, causing Hermione to laugh. "Can you find him?"

The bird gave another affirmative hoot and took off through the open window of the shop.

"All right. Done. I'm sure Sirius will be happy to hear from you," Hermione commented as they left the owl post office.

"Yeah..." Harry sighed. She could see that something was bothering him.

"What is it?"

"Do you reckon we could figure out a way for him to reply to us?" Harry asked hopefully. "I mean, Sirius changed the Hiding Charm on him to allow me to write him. Maybe we could do that, too?"

"I don't know," she said hesitantly. "If we find a book with more advanced explanations on the charm, it would probably be possible. But... I'm sorry, I don't know if it'd be a good idea. Can we be absolutely sure that he won't try to track us?"

Harry sighed. "I don't think he would, but... Yes, I know that he trusts Dumbledore a lot."

"Exactly," Hermione said, giving him a sympathetic look. "I know it's not what you'd like to hear. But... We'll have to be careful. Sirius is close to Dumbledore. They fought together in the Wizarding War, after all. And judging by our short interactions with him, it certainly looks as if he still thinks that Dumbledore knows best when it comes to your welfare."

"Yeah... But if I told Sirius everything that happened over the last years, I think he would come around. Don't you think?" Harry asked almost pleadingly, and she could see how much he wanted it to be true.

"It might be worth a try," she agreed thoughtfully. "I don't see a reason not to share our suspicions with him, at least."

"I'll do that," Harry immediately agreed. "And then we'll try to exchange letters?"

"Maybe..." She furrowed her brows. "Let's think on it a bit more. Maybe we could find other ways to communicate that don't compromise our safety."

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet. Let's maybe..."

"Find a book on it?" Harry finished the sentence for her.

"Yes," she chuckled. "The bookshop is next, anyway."

She still contemplated the question while they walked along to look for the store, but she concluded that they simply didn't know enough about the various ways of magical communication. It was easier with her parents, whom she could simply call from a phone box if she ever wanted to talk to them. She had no desire to do so, of course, knowing that it would only end in another fight, but she had sent them a postcard from Florence a few days earlier. It had only been a short note telling them that she was okay, nothing more. She had been hesitant about writing them at all, but Harry had kept on bugging her about it until she had given in. She could see his point about not burning any bridges for good when it wasn't necessary, and it didn't compromise their safety by much.

Naturally, the post stamp would tell her parents their previous location, but she didn't expect them to share the information with anyone from the wizarding world. She also knew that teenage runaways tended not to be a very high concern for the mundane police. There would be no nationwide manhunt of the Italian police for her and Harry, nor anywhere else in Europe. They only had to stay out of trouble and avoid any run-ins with the local police, but that had always been a necessity anyway.

"Ah, there it is!" Harry's voice startled her out of her musings.

They had arrived in front of a large bookshop, which was one of the livelier stores they had seen so far at the plaza. As she looked through the shop window, Hermione mentally salivated at the sight of the many rows of bookshelves containing countless heavy textbooks and old tomes on indubitably fascinating magics, but she also remembered her disappointment in France and had to remind herself that most if not all of those books would be written in a language she didn't understand.

With that in mind, her exuberance was somewhat curbed as they entered the shop, even when it was the largest magical bookshop she had ever visited in her life – and by a large margin too. Her mood immensely perked up, however, when they found a clerk who was able to speak English, and she became almost euphoric when he told her that the shop did indeed sell a large number of books written in English.

By the time she exited the bookshop over two hours later with her exhausted boyfriend in tow, Hermione had acquired a large collection of books on several Charms subjects, on the various magical forms of communication, on European wizarding culture and history, and – maybe most importantly – on healing. She wasn't sure if the three books on basic healing would help her to better understand whatever it was that was wrong with Harry's scar, but knowing some more basic healing would be good either way.

They had also gotten some copies of the Daily Prophet, though the editions were a few days old. There had been nothing remarkable on the front page, but they hadn't looked through the papers more closely yet. All in all, their trip had been an overwhelming success.

"That went very well," she said happily as they walked out onto the plaza. "Maybe we can come back here some time?"

"Yeah, sure," Harry replied and gave her a hard look. "It was over two hours, by the way."

"Hey, how could I have known that the bookshop would be this big?" she defended herself. "And that they sold so many books written in English?"

"You're right. Of course," Harry conceded with a wry smile. "I'm actually surprised we got out of there while the sun is still up."

"Come on, I'm not that bad!" she protested, but Harry only gave her an amused look and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Well, okay, maybe I am that bad," she relented. "But look at the bright side. We did get lots of books that we really needed, didn't we?"

"That's true," Harry admitted. "But I could really use a break now... Hey, how about some ice cream?" he suggested and pointed at an ice café in the corner of the plaza.

"Sure," Hermione agreed happily.

They found themselves a nice secluded spot in the café and once they had ordered and gotten their sundaes, Hermione put up a few privacy charms that they had been practising recently. Hidden from prying ears, they spread out the newspapers on the table and began to look through them while they ate their ice cream.

"Anything about us?" she asked after a while, bored by skimming over the umpteenth article containing nothing but inconsequential gossip about people whose names she had never heard of.

"No... Oh, here!" Harry called out. He cleared his throat and began to read out a short article that he had found in the corner of one of the pages. "Ahem. Potter sighted in London. That's the headline. A good start! Anyway... Harry Potter, The Coward Who Fled, was sighted yesterday in Muggle London. Huh, they have actually capitalised the 'The', too!"

Hermione snorted while Harry continued with the article. "A reader of this newspaper spotted a teen with dark hair and glasses, whom he identified without a doubt as the runaway Hogwarts student and former hero of the wizarding world Harry Potter. It was reported that young Harry wore muggle clothes, an observation which lends credence to the speculations that the teenage boy has been hiding in the Muggle world ever since he has become a Squib – Right, almost forgot, I'm a Squib! Anyway continuing... His girlfriend Hermione Granger was not seen in his company. We ask our readers to remain on the lookout for the wayward children and report any sightings to the Aurors and to this newspaper."

They both burst into laughter when Harry came to a stop.

"So, every time a wizard sees a teen boy with dark hair, glasses, and normal clothes, there'll be a new story on another sighting of you?" Hermione asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Seems that way," Harry laughed.

"Well, you know, actually, it's rather convenient for us," she said. "If anyone is looking for us, that might make them think we're still in Britain."

"I doubt that Dumbledore would base his search for us on articles in the Prophet," Harry commented.

"Well, you never know," she said with a shrug, though she supposed that he was right about that. "Anything else in there?"

"No..." he replied, and they both leaned over the newspapers again.

It was Harry once more who spoke up after a while. "Huh. This is... well, interesting, I guess. Another Skeeter article. Apparently, there's a Yule Ball at Hogwarts two days from now on Christmas Day."

"Okay..."

"Yeah, and, well, Viktor Krum apparently asked Padma Patil to the ball," he went on as he skimmed over the article, "and Skeeter is angry that the famous Quidditch star chose a – I quote – 'foreign hussy' over a 'proper British Pureblood witch'."

"Wow..." Hermione muttered, appalled by the Daily Prophet once again. "That's just terrible. And, bigotry aside, how is it even remotely the concern of a national newspaper who's dating who at Hogwarts?"

"Well, we knew that Skeeter is totally bonkers," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Yeah..." She nodded. "I wouldn't want to imagine what they'd have written about us!"

"Damn, that's true. I'm glad that we left," Harry agreed. "But there is one thing I regret."

"Oh?"

"Yes," he said and gave her a smile. "I didn't get to ask you to the Yule Ball, as I would've done otherwise..."

"Right. You better had!" she said with a laugh.

"Of course!" he insisted.

There was a short pause between them before Harry gave her a questioning look. "We were asked to bring dress robes for the ball. I suppose you packed those when we left, right?" he asked. "You have those here?"

"Sure, Harry," she replied, unsure where he was going with this.

"So, Hermione..." he began and paused dramatically, "would you do me the honour of accompanying me to our own private Yule Ball in the evening two days from now in our tent?"

"Oh, well, yes," she readily agreed, pleasantly surprised by his suggestion. "I'd be happy to. That's a sweet idea, Harry!"

"I just don't know how to dance..." he admitted, a bit embarrassed.

Hermione shrugged merrily. "Oh, me neither..."

She laughed at Harry's surprised expression. "Why would you think otherwise? We've spent the last three and a half years at Hogwarts together. When would I have learnt to dance?"

"During summers?" he suggested.

"No, I didn't take any dancing lessons during summer hols," she said with a snort, amused by the idea. "I guess at Hogwarts, I might have tried to teach myself before the ball, if someone had asked me to it, but-"

"If someone?" Harry interrupted her.

"Fine, after you had asked me!" Hermione replied with a laugh.

"Damn right."

"Yes, then I, or we, could've practised a bit, I guess," she went on. "But it would've been just as new to me as to you. And I doubt that it'll be any different for most other students."

"Right," Harry said. "Well, I look forward to it either way. Even when you can't dance."

"How very generous of you," she laughed. "But, honestly, it's a great idea, Harry. I look forward to it, too."

"Well, we had to do something for Christmas, right?" he said with a shrug, and they resumed flipping through the newspapers before them.

No further articles drew their attention, however. Hermione was especially disappointed that there was nothing of substance on the investigation into the Triwizard tournament that was currently being conducted by the Ministry.

By the time they had gone through the entire stack of newspapers, the sun was slowly setting, bathing the plaza outside in a beautiful golden light.

"It's getting late," she commented, looking up from the last newspaper in front of her. "Should we maybe get going?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "let's get back while it's still bright enough to see where we need to go."

With that, they left the café and walked to a secluded alcove in between the arcades, where Harry pulled the Firebolt and the Invisibility Cloak from his enchanted backpack. Hermione got on the broom behind him, threw the cloak over them, and they took off into the sky.

Even when she had her own broom now, they still flew into towns and cities together. They only had one Invisibility Cloak under which to hide themselves, after all. They had recently done some tours with both brooms, however. On several occasions, they had flown together along the coastline or over sparsely populated hillsides, exploring the countryside. The Disillusionment Charm which they had learnt was enough to keep them hidden there. She had even enjoyed their journeys over the picturesque Italian landscapes once she had gotten used to the heights. And Harry had been thrilled to be able to fly his Firebolt without the restriction of having her as his passenger, and he had given her more than one scare with his insane aerobatics while he had barrelled through the air.

Hermione was just glad that now, he steered the broom with much more gentle movements again. Slowly, they ascended over the city of Rome and headed west, where the sun was about to set over the sea. It was a breathtaking view, but even while she took in the amazing sight of the ancient town and its monuments in the last rays of evening sunshine, Hermione still mostly thought about how much she looked forward to their Christmas celebrations and their private Yule Ball in two days' time.

#

In the early evening two days later, Hermione nervously observed herself in the mirror of their bedroom while she was trying to spell her bushy hair to take a more manageable form, even though she knew that it was a hopeless endeavour.

She and Harry had spent a relaxed Christmas Day in their tent so far, only leaving it for a lazy stroll through the hillsides and back to their tent again in the early afternoon. Afterwards, they had prepared their Christmas dinner and spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. They had made roast beef – they hadn't found a Christmas turkey in the Italian supermarkets – with roast potatoes and some side dishes. With dinner prepared, they had then gone to get changed for their "ball", and Hermione knew that Harry had been waiting for her for some time already.

With that reminder, she sighed and gave up trying to tame her hair, deciding the little progress she had made so far would have to suffice. Instead, she went on to put some finishing touches to her light make-up and then looked herself over in the mirror again.

She wasn't satisfied yet with her dress, however, but luckily, she knew just the right spells for it. With a few waves of her wand, she slightly altered her dress and made it more form-fitting than what might have been considered appropriate at Hogwarts, though it was nothing out of the ordinary by Muggle world standards.

She nodded when she saw the changes in the mirror, feeling confident that Harry would like it, too. Maybe, if he saw her like this, he would finally... No, these were silly thoughts, she reminded herself. Even if she got a reaction out of him, she also knew her boyfriend very well. She had thought about slowly taking things a step further, but she also knew it would have to be her to initiate that. Harry was far too afraid of doing anything she didn't like to take the initiative, even when she had been trying to reassure him. Yet, she was also hesitant, knowing that Harry was only getting accustomed to their relationship and the intimacy of it. She didn't want to take things too far too fast. But maybe, after a few dances, maybe she could slowly-

No. She shook her head decisively, annoyed with herself. She liked to make detailed plans, tended to over-think things, but their relationship, and especially this part of it, was no place for this kind of behaviour. She would just do what felt right in the moment and not make any plans beforehand.

After a last look over herself in the mirror, she finally walked to the bedroom door and stepped outside.

Harry had been waiting for her in the living area of the tent, and his jaw dropped when he saw her.

"Wow..." he breathed. "You look great! You're beautiful, Hermione."

"Thanks." She smiled, pleased by his reaction. "So are you."

"I- What?" Harry laughed. "That's not what you're supposed to say! You can't call a guy beautiful!"

"No? I think I just did," she replied teasingly. Though she really thought that he looked rather dashing wearing his dark green dress robes.

Harry crossed his arms and gave her a mock pout, and she sighed dramatically.

"Oh, well, all right, "she said, "I take it back. You're... pretty. There. Is that better?"

"No, it's not!" he complained.

"Well, I stand by it. What are you going to do abou-ahh! Haarrryy!"

She squealed when he drew his wand in a flash and shot a series of tickling charms at her. She stumbled back as she tried to evade the charms, but she collided with the couch and fell back onto it, making herself an easy target for him, and she was promptly hit with the next tickling charm.

"Ha-Ha-Haaarryyy staah-ha-hap iiit!" she wheezed between bouts of laughter, and Harry finally lowered his wand.

"You give up?"

"Yes! I give up!" she cried, panting heavily. "I take it back. You're very, very handsome, all right?"

"I won't complain about that," he said and offered her his hand to pull her up from the couch.

She gave him a peck on his lips as she rose and then looked down over her now rather dishevelled dress.

"You really are incorrigible," she sighed while she tried to readjust the wrinkled fabric. "Just look how much you've ruined my dress now!"

"You want to take it off?" Harry responded. "Be my guest... "

Hermione gave him an amused look, raising her eyebrows at him. She was surprised by his boldness, but she could tell from his blushing cheeks that his mouth had gotten the better of him and he had only said it in jest.

"Uh, I mean..." he stuttered, but she only grinned at him.

"No..." she finally replied. "Not yet."

"Yet?" he echoed, blinking in surprise.

"Yet," she repeated with a quirk of her lips and gave him another peck. "Now come on. Dinner is getting cold."

"That's what the warming charms are for!" Harry protested, but she walked past him and strode towards the kitchen corner.

"Yes, but I'm hungry."

"Fine," he sighed and followed her to the stove.

When they readied the food and arranged the serving dishes, Hermione hoped that the meal would taste just as delicious as it looked and smelled. Before they sat down at the already decked table, she put on some classical Christmas music on the battery-powered CD player that they had bought a few weeks earlier. It worked inside the tent, too, despite the surrounding enchantments. Only the radio had no reception inside the tent.

Harry, in the meantime, fetched a bottle of wine they had gotten for the special occasion and opened it. Them buying that bottle the day before had been the first time they had made use of that particular benefit of the Ageing Potion.

"Just a tiny sip," she reminded him as he poured their glasses, and she rolled her eyes when he, unsurprisingly, didn't listen. "Honestly, Harry, we're not going to get drunk today!"

"Of course not," he assured her. "It's just one glass!"

"Well, fine," she said with an exasperated sigh and loaded her plate. With everything prepared, she leaned back in her seat and surveyed the decked table before her while listening to the music.

"This is nice," she said contently. "Only the Christmas tree is missing."

"Right!" Harry exclaimed, having just finished loading his own plate. "We really should have done that!"

"What?"

"Gotten a Christmas tree!" he said. "We could have cut down a small tree, one of the pines outside, and put it up here and charmed it!"

"You're right!" she realised and laughed. "We really should have done that! Well... Let's do that tomorrow, even when it'll be a day late."

"Yeah, let's," her boyfriend agreed happily before he raised his glass. "Anyway... Cheers!"

"Cheers!" she replied and sniffed at her own glass of wine. She carefully took a small sip and immediately grimaced at the sour taste.

Harry also contorted his face as he put down his glass. "I don't get it," he said with a frown. "Do adults really like this? Why?"

"No idea," she said, pushing her glass away. "I think I'd rather stay with the juice."

"Yeah, me too," her boyfriend agreed, and they poured another pair of glasses with the excellent Italian grape juice that they had found a liking to over the last weeks.

"That's better," she said after she had washed down the wine's sour taste, and she proceeded to take a first bite of the roast beef.

"But this..." She nodded appreciatively. "This is good!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "We're really getting better at cooking!"

"We really are!"

"Soon, we'll eat even better than at Hogwarts," he joked, but she knew that it would take them a long time until they could match the House-elves at Hogwarts.

"Do you ever regret it?" she asked. "That we left?"

"Apart from the food you mean?" he quipped, but then he became more serious. "No," he said simply.

"Me neither," she said. "I'm pretty sure that the last weeks have been the best in my life so far."

"Yeah..." Harry said slowly, nodding along. "At Hogwarts, there was always something going on. We could never just... I don't know... just..."

"Just live," she finished the sentence for him. "Yes, exactly. Even though it's adventurous, in a certain way it's much more peaceful to travel like this, away from all that..."

"Definitely more fun, too," he added.

"Do you miss our friends?" she wondered.

"Well, I don't know," Harry answered thoughtfully. "We've never been close friends with anyone beside Ron, and he hasn't been very supportive in the end. I would like to know more about what's going on, though. And I reckon Ron, or Ginny – maybe even some of the other boys, too, like Neville – they might worry about us, too."

"Maybe we can send a few more letters occasionally," she mused. "And we'll try to find better ways of communication as fast as possible."

"That'd be great," Harry said happily.

For the next few minutes, they spoke little more and simply enjoyed the meal while they listened to the music. It was when they had cleared their plates that Harry shot her a nervous look.

"So... I guess you'd like us to dance now?" he asked.

"Well, you did say that this would be a ball," she reminded him, a smile playing on her lips.

"I suppose I did," he replied with a heavy sigh. He rose from the table and looked at her expectantly. "Well, now what?"

"Let's make ourselves some more space first," she said as she got up. "Can you do that?"

While Harry levitated the couch aside to clear the middle of the living area of the tent, Hermione put on a CD with suitable music for a slow dance.

"Does that work?" Harry asked when he was done rearranging the furniture.

"Yes, good," she said as she surveyed the room. She then shot him a smile and took his hand in hers, leading them into the centre of the room.

"Now, let's see..." she began, trying to remember what little she knew about ballroom dances. "We need to hold hands like this, and you put your right hand on my back..."

"No, more towards my waist," she added when Harry hesitantly put his hand against her left shoulder blade.

"Okay, good. Now..." She frowned as she tried to recall the steps for the dance.

"Admit it," Harry said with a laugh when he caught her expression, "you also have no idea what we're supposed to do now."

"Not really," she confirmed freely. "I told you before. But I have read a book on it once."

"Of course you have," he chuckled.

"Don't worry, we'll figure this out," she said. "I think I remember. You're supposed to lead, but for now, just do as I say. Okay. First, you step forward with your right foot, and I step back... Yes... Now, you step right. No- ouch!" she exclaimed when he stepped on her foot. "My right, your left."

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Harry apologised.

"My mistake. It's all right, nothing ha-" she replied and promptly kicked his ankle with the side of her foot when he wanted to repeat the movement and she attempted to step to the side.

"Ow!"

"Sorry!" she cried, pulling back her leg at once, and she would have lost her footing if Harry hadn't held her upright.

"Are you sure we're doing this right?" he asked with amusement.

"We just need some time to practice," she insisted and repositioned herself. "We continue where we left of. Forward-"

"Ooof."

"Ah!"

And they both tried to move forward at once, almost butting their heads against each other before they quickly pulled back, but they stumbled over each other's feet in the process and ended up tumbling to the floor, with Harry landing on his butt and her falling on her side next to him.

From where they lay on the floor, they gave each other a startled look before they broke into loud laughter.

"Blood hell!" Harry laughed. "Now I'm even more relieved that we left the school. We really would've made fools of ourselves at the Yule Ball!"

"We probably would have practised a bit beforehand," Hermione tried to qualify, but she could see his point.

"I suppose," he admitted, slowly calming down again.

"Well, should we try again?" she asked.

"Sure?" he replied, and they picked themselves up and got into position.

This time, they moved more carefully and got the basic steps right after a few attempts. Slowly, they increased their pace and were soon able to move in sync to the music.

As the evening continued, their dancing became easier and more fun the more practice they got. They still stepped on each other's feet occasionally, and they broke the rhythm of their movements quite often, but overall, Hermione was surprised by the ease of it. She and Harry were able to move more and more fluidly, pressed closely together, and after some time they even got bold enough to try out some more advanced moves.

They had a lot of fun with their attempts at turns and pivots at first, but then she overdid it and tried to pivot several times around her boyfriend while he guided her. She put in a bit too much spin into it, and Harry followed her a bit too closely, and they collided as she finished her movement. His leg was in her way and she lost her balance, pulling Harry down with her.

"Ah!"

"Oh!"

Luckily, the soft carpet cushioned their fall as they landed on the floor next to each other again.

"Are you alright?" they both asked at the same time, but with neither of them hurt, they only broke into laughter once more.

"We really are terrible at this!" Hermione giggled.

"Maybe," Harry replied cheerfully. "Doesn't matter as long as we're having fun."

Slowly, they calmed down and their laughter subsided, and soon they were just staring into each other's eyes while they lay close to each other on the soft carpet.

"Again?" Harry asked quietly after a long pause.

"I don't know..." she said lowly and scooted closer to him until their faces were almost touching. "Wouldn't you say that we have pushed our luck enough? Maybe we should stop while neither of us is hurt."

"Maybe we should," he whispered back, nodding slowly.

"And this is much nicer, anyway," she breathed, feeling herself getting lost in his eyes.

"It is, isn't it?" Harry agreed with a soft smile.

There was another long pause between them, with neither of them breaking the silence or making a first move, until Harry spoke up again.

"So..." he began, "if we're not going to dance anymore... what will we do for the rest of the night?"

"Well..." Hermione whispered and brought her lips closer to his. "I'm sure we'll be able to think of something worthwhile..."

And they did.

A/N: A huge thank you to my proofreaders Proton6 and amidland for their continued help with the story!