"I like him, I really like him… but he'll never notice me. He likes that bookworm…" she thought, as Harry Potter walked down the hallway. What did Hermione have that she didn't have?
Then, to her surprise, Harry turned to her, paused, started to turn away, and then turned back to her. What was going on?
Nervously, Harry walked up to her. "Say, um…. I don't suppose you have a date for the Yule Ball and…"
"Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh!" she thought
"if you might, you know, want to go to the ball with me…"
"Yes yes yes yes yes!" she thought. "But, wait, play it cool, don't look too excited, that's what Mum always said."
"Pavarti." Harry finished.
"Wait, what?" she blurted.
Harry looked even more nervous. "Pavarti. Would you go to the ball with me, Pavarti?"
Hmmm. This was harder than she had expected. On the one hand: famous, seemingly very nice, brave, and not too bad-looking if a bit on the skinny side. On the other hand: he's been in classes with her for three and a half years and he doesn't know her name. Racist? Just plain stupid?
What the heck. English.
Yeah, sure Harry, I'd love to." she replied.
"Great!" he said, his voice breaking just a little, and then turned around and ran, no scampered, away.
"What have I done?" thought Parvati.