CHAPTER 13: THE NIGHT OF NIGHTS

It was the morning of the dance and Harry's stomach was pitching and rolling like a ship on rough water. He couldn't have been more tense.

And yet, Harry couldn't quite explain why he was so nervous. It was only a dance!

Or so Harry tried to convince himself, but deep in his heart, Harry knew that the reason he was so jumpy was not nerves. It was his crush on Hermione.

Perhaps it wasn't a crush, Harry thought. Maybe she liked him back! Maybe…

Harry straightened his glasses and stared longingly at Hermione across the field in flying class. Harry wondered when Quidditch practice was going to start. He believed Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, had mentioned it a few days before the "ice room" incident.

Thinking of Quidditch made Harry think of Cedric Diggory. As he remembered the occurrence the previous year that had cost Cedric his life, Harry had to blink tears out of his eyes. Yet, Harry couldn't keep himself from recalling the happenings the previous year. And thinking about the tri-wizard tournament made Harry think of Cho Chang… she seemed so insignificant now, Harry thought. With the feuding between the houses… the feud was not so eventful now, but more of a bitterness, an avoidance. Cho had been so nice, Harry thought, but when he said hello to her in the hallway, she had not responded. Overtaken by the hostility, she had forgotten, or was at least ignoring, Harry. Harry was disappointed. But now he had Hermione, he told himself. He didn't need anyone else now.

"Harry?" Madam Hooch looked annoyed.

Harry looked around him and realized that he was the only student still on the ground. He looked up to see the rest of the flying class taking laps in a large circle above him.

"Heh, heh… sorry, Madam Hooch…" Harry scratched his head.

"Next time, pay attention, eh?" Madam Hooch blew her whistle and pointed up. Harry mounted his Firebolt broom and kicked off the ground. Hermione caught his eye and Harry aimed for her. He flew by her side and said,

"How many laps, then?" He grinned.

Hermione shook her head disbelievingly and giggled. "You were in a daze, you were. Ten laps." She nodded. "I've done 3 but I'll finish yours with you."

"Thanks." Harry said. The two flew next to each other for the rest of class. Harry noticed how Hermione's hair glowed in the sunlight, streaks of golden brown blowing in the wind behind her.

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"Ron, hurry up! We're going to be late!" Harry looked at his watch anxiously.

"Coming!" Ron said. "ooh, I've a wicked idea!" He walked towards Harry, brandishing his wand.

"What's that?" Harry raised an eyebrow and struggled not to laugh. Ron had clad himself in the required dress robes, and Harry was not used to seeing Ron look so… so… "You look, er - debonair!"

"Thanks." Ron sounded breathy and fretful. "Here's my idea. Give me something you don't want."

"Huh? Er-" Harry turned to his trunk and extracted a pair of horrid socks, given to him on his 10th birthday by his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They were woolen orange and had previously belonged to his cousin Dudley.

"Perfect! There's two!" Ron raised his wand at the socks and cleared his throat. "Botonaria!"

Instantly, the two socks turned into two bouquets of flowers. The flowers were the same shade of orange as the socks had been.

"Lovely!" Harry forced himself to say, though the shade of orange was vile.

Ron beamed. "Learned that in transfiguration."

Harry noticed that the socks smelled of dirty feet. "Mind if I fix something, Ron?" he asked.

"No…" Ron said, though he sounded insecure and slightly offended.

"Defoeteo!" Harry commanded. Instantly, the revolting smell was gone, replaced by a pleasant floral scent. Harry wasn't finished. "Purpureus!" the dreadful carroty color of the flowers was interchanged with a vibrant amethyst color.

"Brill, Harry! Bleeding brill!" Ron was pleased. Each boy took a bouquet and headed out the door and towards the Great Hall. The hallways were clogged with boys and girls from every house, each in their own dress robes.

"There's Madeline!" Ron exclaimed. He stopped dead in his tracks. "Harry, look!"

"What's the matter?" Harry was worried. Ron sounded upset.

"Hermione's with her… and Malfoy! But she's not flirting with him, he's flirting with her!" Ron was horrified, as was Harry.

Indeed, as Harry stared at Hermione, Madeline, and Malfoy, who were standing about 25 feet away, he clenched his fists in anger.

Madeline looked over at Ron. She was almost in tears. She looked helpless and frustrated.

Harry knew that Hermione, according to the plan, was supposed to be flirting with Malfoy, but instead, the slimy boy was hitting on the girl.

Harry's eye's gleamed with rage as he beheld something he had never, ever wanted to see.

Malfoy put his hand on Hermione's shoulder and grinned. He was saying something to her, and Hermione was nodding reluctantly. She gulped and looked right at Harry. Her eyes widened as she first realized his presence. She tilted her head and stared despondently at Harry, all the while nodding lackadaisically, half-listening to Malfoy.

Harry mustered all the courage he had. He decided to challenge Malfoy to the wizard's duel now, instead of waiting until later in the dance.

Harry walked boldly over to where Malfoy and Hermione were standing.

"Mister Malfoy!" Harry said irately.

"Oh, hello, Potter! I was just talking with your, er- why, isn't this your date?" Malfoy smirked.

"Why, yes it is. Malfoy - I - I -" Harry was speechless. He had come up with wonderful offensive remarks for Malfoy earlier, but his head was so cloudy with fury that he couldn't think of a single one. "I challenge you to a duel!"

"Haven't we been through this only several days ago?" Malfoy was unaffected by Harry's anger. He was still sarcastic and, as he raised one eyebrow, looked Harry over from head to toe.

"I'm serious, Malfoy. Hermione is my date, and more importantly, my best friend! I'm not going to let you get involved." Harry puffed out his chest.

Malfoy scoffed. "I don't think you should be getting involved, Harry. It's Hermione's decision."

Hermione tried to say something, but her voice wasn't there. She cleared her throat, and everyone looked at her. Hermione tried again. "I - I did come here with Harry, and I hate to be mean, but -" Hermione moved over to Harry and took his hand. "I like him." She looked up into Harry's face. "I do."

Harry was shocked. He nearly keeled over.

"Humph." Malfoy wrinkled his nose and stared disapprovingly at Harry. "Fine then. Tomorrow morning. Five thirty. We'll duel."

"Sounds - sounds wonderful." Harry's hatred for Malfoy erased the smile of joy from his face.

Malfoy stalked away, and Ron spoke for the first time.

"There goes a defeated bloke." Ron smiled.

"'Arry! You're so brave!" Madeline smiled.

Harry kept his eye on Malfoy, who walked, head hung, over to his friends Crabbe and Goyle.

"Oh!" Harry remembered the flowers in his hand. Hermione was eyeing them. "We - uh - made these for you." He grinned.

Hermione laughed nervously. "Thank you. They're beautiful." She inhaled their scent. "And they smell wonderful!"

"They didn't used to." Ron declared as he handed Madeline her bouquet.

"Merci!" Madeline exclaimed. "I mean, thank you!"

"Harry?" Hermione asked, "What did they used to be?" She smiled.

"Um, socks." Harry said, embarrassed.

"Well, you must be quite talented to be able to transform socks into zees beautiful flow-airs!" Madeline stated, patting Ron on the back.

"Well, I might have made them flowers, but Harry made them non-orange, non-stinky flowers." Ron admitted.

The our shared a laugh.

"Let's dance, shall we?" Hermione smiled and extended her hand as beautiful slow music began to play.

Harry took Hermione's hand and led her onto the dance floor. Ron did the same for Hermione, and the four friends danced next to one another.

"So much has happened so far, I find it hard to believe we are but two weeks into the year!" Hermione verbalized after several moments of dancing in silence.

"Indeed!" Ron chimed in, beside them.

Harry smiled. He reflected on the past few weeks events, almost in disbelief. But now, he wanted to live for just tonight. He wanted to just be with Hermione.

He moved Hermione away from Ron with a polite nod. He needed to speak with her privately.

"Er - Hermione? What you said before… did you mean it, or were you just saying that because Malfoy was right there and you wanted him to bug off?" Harry looked away, embarrassed.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and blinked slowly. When she opened her eyes again, she looked right into Harry's eyes.

"No." She said finally. For a moment Harry's eyes met hers. Harry questioned what was coming next.

"I meant it." Hermione said decisively. Harry smiled.

The dance continued, and everything was perfect. It was indeed the night of nights.