A Fairy Tale in Pop Music (Part 2!)
Hermione shot up in bed, breathing heavily, her hand steadying her chest. That did not just happen, did it? Parvati and Lavender were still awake, chewing gum, trying on glamorous clothing, and looking at beauty magazines (as usual). Hermione compulsively glanced at her Prefect badge (pinned to her nightgown) and back to them. She narrowed her eyes dangerously.
"Parvati! Lavender! You two shouldn't be awake at this hour of the night! Go back to sleep!" The girls grumbled at her as they started to change into their nightgowns, wash their faces, brush their teeth, put on their lotion, do their yoga exercises, put on their eye covers (for optimum beauty rest!) and pull the covers over their heads. Thank Godric that was only a dream, Hermione thought. She gave a long sigh, and lied down again. Why did it only have to be a dream? She wondered, but not long after, she drifted off into the land of dreams again.
No, she wasn't going to sleep at a time like this! She was going to talk to Ron. He needed to hear what she was going to say. Hermione got out of bed and started pacing back and forth with Crookshanks following behind her, back and forth across the girls' dorm floor. Step, step, step, step, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat. Step, step, step, step, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat. "STOP IT, CROOKSHANKS!" Her cat sat down, looking up his big squashed nose at her, fearfully.
She had read in several books that dreams could often have meanings that can predict, warn, or even connect with other happenings or with other people's dreams. That was all very clear to Hermione; the question du jour was…
"What am I going to wear?" she whispered to Crookshanks, tapping a finger on her jaw. She searched her trunk, but she could only find formless black school robes, and silly sweaters. Nothing suitable for so serious an occasion. Crookshanks meowed suddenly, and her mirror said soothingly, "Psst! Dearie, look at me. You don't need a thing." Hermione turned around to talk to her mirror, but stopped short, gazing in wonder at the reflection she was faced with. A long, beautiful black dress clung to all of her curves perfectly, her makeup was elegant and dramatic, and her hair fell in long, flowing tresses down her back. Hermione stared at herself.
"Oh. My goodness. I…I look good!" She said to herself; her eyebrows rose in something like excitement.
"Go get 'em, dearie!" The mirror cheered for her. Crookshanks howled happily. So Hermione took this advice from her mirror and cat (for what reason she did not know, Hogwarts had always been strange that way) and went downstairs. She was surprised to see all of Gryffindor Tower's residents there, in the common room. They should be in bed, she thought angrily. But…but Parvati and Lavender were there, too. How did they sneak out of bed? What's going on here? She was distracted, though, when she caught sight of Ron. He was sitting in a corner of the room, leaned over, with a streamer clutched in one hand. He looked very downcast.
Hermione quietly walked over and sat down in the chair across from him, staring at his other hand. He kept running it through his bright red hair in frustration. She reached out to touch him, but the lights went out. Suddenly, two spotlights shone on them, and a guitar appeared in Hermione's hands. She blinked in confusion, and looked down at it. It felt real enough. She pinched herself, and whimpered in pain. Hmm, so maybe this isn't a dream, she thought, in a combination of wonder and fear.
The others standing in the room began to murmur excitedly, looking and pointing towards the two best friends in expectation. Neville was elbowing through the crowd, as though trying to find good seats at a quidditch game, Harry and Ginny were off to one side, talking (and what looked like flirting), and the rest were just chattering back and forth. Some urged Hermione to start to play a song. Ron had performed one for her…why not one for him? She clenched her teeth in anxiety and played a soft chord on the guitar. Ron looked up suddenly, brought up out of his thoughts, and blushed scarlet at the sight of Hermione in front of him. She continued to play with a new sense of bravery, and began to sing:
"I had no choice, but to hear you.
You stated your case time and again,
I thought about it."
Ron took the guitar from her, stood up, and held his hand out for her. The guitar still played by itself, but Hermione hesitated, despite her motive for singing to him. Finally, she gave in and got up to place her hand in his. She trembled, but he held it fast. Looking at her hopefully, his bright blue eyes shined. She was stricken. What was she saying?
"You treat me like I'm a princess,
I'm not used to liking that.
You ask how my day was…"
He had brought her to the middle of the room as she sang to him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to dance with her. She stopped singing, and started to get nervous. Ron noticed, and held her just a little bit closer. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Go on?" he asked. She pulled away from him angrily, and the guitar that had been playing by itself, soared across the room and into her outstretched hand. Why did he have to make her feel like this? She went on.
"You've already won me over, in spite of me!
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet.
And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are,
I couldn't help it.
It's all your fault!"
Her elegant black had been replaced with leather. She was now wearing knee-length boots, a black miniskirt with a black top, and a heavy leather jacket. She could also feel the layers of lipstick and eyeliner that had been added. Ron only smiled at this, trying not to laugh. Everyone else in the room, however, gasped, and paid even more attention. She kept strumming and singing, trying to get rid of her feelings toward him. However, logical argument had decided to go on holiday for that moment in time, and had escaped her. Honest words fell from her lips, involuntarily.
"Your love is thick,
And it swallowed me whole.
You're so much braver than I give you credit for,
That's not lip service."
What am I doing? She thought with shock. Ron smiled wider, and everyone kept encouraging her to go on. But she couldn't. How could she? What would happen if…but her heart had taken over again.
"You've already won me over in spite of me!
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet.
And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are,
I couldn't help it.
It's all your fault!"
She slowed her singing, and began to cry. It was true. She loved him and it was his fault. He was always brave, standing up for her when others had insulted her. He had almost given his life to protecting her other, brother of a best friend, Harry. He had always shown great love and companionship towards his family, even if they didn't appreciate him. They had always fought over the most absurd, simple, and best things, especially about studying too much. But it seemed like everything, everything but this, had worked out fine in the end.
Ron noticed her tears, and came over to engulf her in a hug, even if her eyeliner and mascara were running down her face unattractively. Once again, her wardrobe changed. It was no longer black, but a comfortable, autumn-red dress. There was no makeup left on her face, the guitar was gone from her hands, but still playing. And her hair…well, her hair was as naturally bushy and brown as it always had been. She leaned into him and began to sing again, softly.
"You are the bearer of unconditional things,
You held your breath, and the door for me.
Thanks for your patience."
They started to dance again, slowly, turning around with their eyes closed, cheeks pressed together. He whispered, "But that's not how this fairy tale is gonna end." She recognized that. It was from the song he sang to her. She pulled back from him for a moment, astonished. "Go on?" He asked, smiling. This time, she smiled back, and they started dancing again.
"You're the best listener I've ever met,
You're my best friend,
Best friend with benefits.
What took me so long?"
She looked into his deep blue eyes, and her own chocolate eyes were reflected. Her lips yearned to touch his.
"I've never felt this healthy before,
I've never wanted something rational…
I am aware now…
I am aware now."
And Ron took his chance. Leaning forward, he took a deep breath, drew her closer, and kissed her. Their warm lips met, fitting perfectly with each other. After they pulled away, Hermione stood there in her red dress, smiling happily at Ron. Ron looked at her and said, "Tell me this isn't a dream." Suddenly they both woke up, back in their own dorms, in their own beds.
"Bloody hell!" Ron cried, springing up in bed once again (he's been doing a lot of springing lately).
"Ohmygoodness!" Hermione gasped.