Title: The Cinderella Chronicles

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Some names used were from the Simpsons.

Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter took long to post, but I had to research on the dance and I had to write the steps in a way that you'd understand them. It was very difficult to do because I didn't understand the steps that much, so pardon the incoherence or if you can't understand the dance. And I hadn't the chance to write anything for a few days because I went to the beach. :p By the way, thanks to all who reviewed chapter 2! Those reviews made my day! Enjoy! ^_^

Chapter Summary: Harry and Hermione dance, Draco is jealous, but meets a certain redhead, we learn something new, the clock strikes twelve, and Harry runs for it.

Chapter 3: The Magical Dance

Harry Potter couldn't have felt any more surreal that night. If you would've asked him a week ago if there was any chance that he'd be able to go to the palace dressed as a yummy-lookin' stud muffin, then he'd laughed at you like you were some lunatic with a loose screw in his head. And it wasn't just that. Everything that happened this week was surreal; from the surprising invitation a few days ago to the immaculate appearance of his pseudo-godfather, he'd never imagined himself to be in the middle of these things. Mr. Potter was just pondering all of these while standing quietly in the corner of the Grand Ballroom. He had just arrived barely minutes ago and was just about to start looking for the Princess if that was any possible because it was already a quarter after nine; it'd be very difficult to look for someone you've only seen for a few times in this kind of crowd, especially when everyone's wearing a mask. Why the rush and the hurry, anyway? Well, it just so happens that when Harry was about to go to the Ball already clad in his prince charming outfit, Ron had stopped him and had told him that he should be back before the clock strikes twelve because the magic would only last until then.

When he was really about to start searching for the Princess, someone bumped into him, a girl with brown hair to be exact. As all actions have a reaction, the drink Harry was holding spilled all over his front.

"Oh no! I'm sorry! I'm terribly sorry! I didn't mean to do that. I'm really sorry! It's just that my friend over there pushed me. I didn't mean to bump into you," Hermione apologized fervently while trying to wipe Harry's stained shirt with her handkerchief.

"It's alright. No harm done. I'm still alive, aren't I?" Harry said jokingly. He was finding this girl in front of him to be very amusing.

Hermione wasn't convinced though that he was alright. "But I ruined your clothes! Oh! I feel so terrible, stupid and very angry! Where is that Ginny?" She took a calming breath and said, "You see, I bumped into you because Ginny pushed me." She then craned her neck, trying to look for a certain redhead who's in for a thorough tongue-lashing.

"Don't worry about it. It's just a stain anyway," responded Harry, still very amused at this girl in front of him. "And who is this Ginny anyway?"

"Well, she's my best friend, actually," Hermione said. "And there she is!" Ginny was standing at the other side of the room, at the very far side of the room. She was sticking her tongue out and was sneering at her best friend. "Oh! I'll get her later," Hermione said furiously. She was very livid. You could even see smoke coming out of her ears.

"Take it easy. She's probably just bored or she hasn't anything better to do. So, are you having fun, I mean, are you enjoying the party?" Harry said while playing with the buttons of his jerkin. Although Hermione did bump into him, he was still quite nervous as the girl in front of him looked pretty though she was wearing a mask, and being a part of the male species, he was getting attracted to Hermione bit by bit.

"Well, the party is quite nice, and the food is delicious, but I am quite exhausted from all the dancing," answered Hermione.

Harry was a tad disappointed because he wanted to ask Hermione if she'd like to dance with him, but she was tired, so he was having qualms about asking her. Anyway, he was trying his best not to look that saddened. "So, a lot of gentlemen asked you already to dance?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," Hermione replied, quite happy because this handsome, raven-haired boy was actually talking to her despite the fact that she ruined his shirt. In truth, when she dragged Ginny to the refreshment table, Hermione only intended to gape...and gape...and drool...and swoon...did I mention gape? She actually never expected that he'd talk to her or even acknowledge her existence. Well, thanks to Ginny for making that one possible. And it seems that this guy in front of her didn't quite know that she was the princess. 'I must take advantage of this' Hermione was beside herself with maniacal glee, well, not exactly maniacal, but it was glee nonetheless.

"Well," Harry said, gathering his courage to ask her a question that would be quite essential for this story to move on, "I was going to ask you to dance with me, but since you're exhausted-"

"Oh nonsense! I'd love to dance with you. Besides, I think it'd be very rude if I rejected your invitation after I so clumsily bumped into you." There was a huge (I really mean HUGE) smile plastered on her face, and there was this certain euphoria emanating from her. Well, who wouldn't? After being asked to dance by the one person you'd surely want to stare at all day and who you find very attractive, anyone would. [a/n: I know I would]

Harry was also grinning from ear to ear. He couldn't believe his luck. After being saved by his pseudo-godfather, meeting this very fine lady in front of him, and his invitation being accepted, Lady Luck was definitely smiling upon him. "Shall we?" he asked, holding his arm out to Hermione.

Hermione then accepted his offered arm and replied, "We shall." They then practically gamboled to the dance floor, each aware of how the other looked. Harry was looking at Hermione up and down. It never occurred to him that Hermione would be this beautiful. Well, he thought she was pretty in some way the first time he saw her, but he never thought she'd be this elegant and graceful. And he never saw those huge, doe-like, chocolate-colored eyes that were sparkling and that were peering through her golden mask. He never relished the appearance of those brown locks that seemed to beckon him to touch them and caress them.

Hermione was doing the same thing. Although she did relish his appearance the first time she saw him, she looked at him up and down again with wide eyes. It wouldn't do bad to stare at him again, wouldn't it? Anyway, as I sated above, they practically skipped to the dance floor and upon arriving there, they immediately danced along with the music. They were dancing a sort of distorted form of the Amoroso, a famous Italian dance from the Renaissance period.

Harry and Hermione stepped three times to the left and paused, and then they stepped three times to the right. Harry then left Hermione with two steps to the left and did a piva (step, step, step, pause). Hermione did the same to catch up with him (chase). Harry leaves Hermione again and did three pive (plural of piva) going to the left and then stepped to the right doing a half turn to face Hermione. When they were already facing each other, they both slid their left foot back and knelt part-way, bending both knees. Harry then stepped thrice to the left, stepped again three times to the left and paused. They then did the steps again, but this time Hermione was the one who ventured while Harry chased her.

After dancing the Amoroso, naturally they'd be thirsty, so they both decided to get drinks.

"Whew! That was certainly tiring, don't you think?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Uh huh. You're a great dancer, you know. Where'd you learn to dance like that?" Harry answered. He was still trying to slow down the rapid palpitating of his heart due to dancing and being near this girl.

"Well, I had dancing lessons during my childhood days. And you're not half as bad yourself. You're actually very good. Where'd you learn to dance like that?" Hermione was having a blast getting to know him.

"My mother taught me while we were waiting for my father to return from the war, but he never came back," Harry replied offhandedly like it was ordinary that you'd never see your father ever again.

"Oh! I'm sorry about that," Hermione said to him. "But I can relate in a way. You see, I only have my father because my mother died when I was seven. She had an incurable disease. So, we're kind of the same in a way."

"Yeah, I guess so." A silence then enveloped them. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence where you run out of things to discuss. It was a silence where they just enjoyed each other's presence; a silence where they can share a likeness; a silence where they can communicate without actually speaking to each other.

Draco Snape was handsome and he was surrounded by drooling, gawking, and ambitious admirers. He had all types of admirers; he had vain admirers, rich ones, poor admirers, persistent admirers, beautiful ones, charming ones, even admirers of the...er...same gender. He definitely had a horde of devotees. But the one that he was after wasn't one of them. You see, Draco here had been pining over Hermione for the last century, well, not exactly the last century considering they're only 18, but he had been head over heels for her ever since he saw her in a party when he was 15. Of course, he had tried to woo her into his arms. He tried every trick in the book, but nothing worked on her. Nothing. But Draco was about to change that tonight.

Or so he thought.

"Excuse me, my adoring admirers," Draco started, "but I need to do an...um...errand tonight, and I need to be by myself, so if you could please enjoy the party and dance, chat or something with the other people, then I'll remember to send you all a letter of appreciation." However, the Draco aficionados were not listening because they were too busy ogling at his angelic face. So, in a final attempt to shoo them away, Draco said, "Okay people, it's time to leave now. Shoo!" And because his fans didn't want to upset him, they left him alone immediately.

He then went in search for the Princess. Any sign of dark brown hair or a blue velvety dress, it would be her. Draco went back and forth in the crowd trying to find her, and when he finally did, she was talking with another man, a man with jet black hair. Actually, it was more like a boy.

'Damn! Who's she talking to?' Draco watched them. It seems that Hermione was not likely to leave this chap. Draco's eyes were beginning to narrow to slits.

"You'll be sorry Mr. I-don't-know-your-frickin'-name. You'll be sorry for even talking to her," Draco said quietly so that no one would hear him. Before he knew it, Hermione and the...person were walking with arms linked together to the dance floor. They were already dancing when Draco tried to walk to where they were standing before, but before he could even reach the said destination, he tripped on someone's long green dress.

Ginny was observing the two people as they danced. She had played matchmaker that night, well, not exactly matchmaker since Hermione spotted him first, but she was the one who initiated their contact. Okay, she pushed her so that she'd bump into him, and it worked, didn't it? Anyway, she was happily watching them dance and was happy herself because her best friend had finally found someone. Hopefully, Hermione wouldn't let go of this one. Hermione had been right when she said that the mysterious guy was gorgeous, but he had not been Ginny's type.

"Oh how nice it is to see Hermione so happy!" Ginny said to herself as she watched them. When she was about to watch them more, someone [a/n:*wink! wink!*] tripped on her long, flowing dress. And that someone was blonde.

"What is the matter with you? Are you dumb or so-" Ginny stopped when she saw who was the one who tripped on her dress. "Draco? Is that you?"

Draco stood up gingerly and winced. His...um...buttocks were hurt from the fall. "The one and only," he snapped at her without realizing who he was talking to. "And who may I as-" He had stopped when he saw that fiery red hair on top of that masked face. "Virginia?"

"The one and only," quipped Ginny. "And I'm sorry about that whole you-tripping-on-my-dress incident. Didn't mean that one, and I never knew Dracos could stumble. Hmmm. Interesting."

"Shut it, Virginia. I'm not here to play games or whatnot," Draco snapped irately. His bottom really hurt.

"Oh aren't we calm?," Ginny said sarcastically. "If you're not here to 'play games or whatnot', then why are you here then?"

"I am here to lure Hermione into my arms."

"By that you mean into your deadly trap," Ginny snorted. "You never do give up, do you?"

"I will never give up until she's in my arms, loving me to my heart's content," he drawled.

"You mean to your ego's content," Ginny said, not bothering to lower her voice, so Draco wouldn't hear. "Aren't you tired of going after Hermione? I mean she's already rejected you for, oh I don't know, a HUNDRED times. Draco, you have a horde of girls and boys going after you. What's so special about Hermione that you want her this badly?" she said, stating the palpable.

"I want her this badly because she's the one and only girl who has refused my charms for time immemorial," Draco replied exasperatedly. "My scheming plans to seduce her are always futile."

"First of all Drakie baby," Ginny started, but Draco interrupted ("Never call me that! Someone might hear you!"),"she's not the only girl in this kingdom to snub your...er...charms. There are plenty of girls who snub your charms because you're a pigheaded chauvinist, and I am one of those girls."

"For one thing, I never tried to woo you because you're a perky egghead who has nothing better to do besides tagging along her best friend for her entire sodding life," he said to her spitefully. His nerves were slowly deteriorating. No one had ever done that to him before...except for this redhead.

Ginny gasped. "How dare you call me a 'perky egghead'! I AM NOT AN EGGHEAD! Take that back, you-you arrogant strutter!"

"Wow! That was a lame insult," Draco said to Ginny. "And I am not a strutter! I never strut."

"Yeah right, Drakie. You strut. No, scrap that. You swagger!" Ginny guffawed.

Draco was really losing his cool. All because Ginny said that he struts. Well, that was shallow. Really. Anyway, he was really livid and near to the point of strangling the redhead, however, he had a better idea. Draco, much to Ginny's surprise and rage, kissed her to the point of no return. Ginny was completely lost in his kiss. It was like paradise mixed with burning hell. She couldn't explain the feeling; she loved the kiss and hated it at the same time. When Draco was about to deepen the kiss to another notch, she finally got a hold of her hormones and broke off the kiss. She was completely taken aback that when she looked at Draco straight in the eye, she punched him right in the face.

Now, Draco was the one completely taken aback.

"What was that for?" Draco howled as he clutched his broken and bleeding nose.

"That was for kissing the hell out of me," Ginny replied casually, and sauntered off to the other side of the room, with her dress billowing behind her.

Severus Snape was a very observant person. He was a master of observation. As much as he was oleaginous, he was also very vigilant, which is a bad thing considering he was currently watching Hermione's dance partner, Mr. Harry Potter. Of course, Mr. Snape didn't know that certain fact, but he will soon. As I was saying, Severus Snape was watching our protagonist intently while Sibyll Trelawney, the vice president of his self-established organization, was blabbing about this week's gossip.

"By the way, did you know that Mrs. deVille found out yesterday that her husband, Henry, has a mistress? And do you know who the mistress is? It's Margareth Bouvier, the baker's daughter!" Sibyll uttered breathlessly with much enthusiasm evident in her shrill voice. However, Severus was not paying attention to what she was chattering about. He was still staring fixedly at the masked man as though he knew him for quite some time, as if he'd been living with that person for a few years.

"Severus, did you know that Bartholomew Smithers proposed to Cindy Krabappel an hour ago?" Still, Severus Snape ignored the sizzling gossip, and this irked Sibyll because she is NEVER ignored. So, she talked to him more, trying to catch his attention, however, her attempts were futile.

In a final attempt to capture his unfeeling attention, Sibyll Trelawney stated the unexpected. "Severus Snape, I am madly in love with you. I have been for the past twenty years, and I am dying, I repeat, dying to get in bed with you," she said dryly.

Now, that statement snapped him out of his deep contemplation of the most perplexing idea in the entire world.

"What?!?" he asked in shock. His eyes were bulging, and he was continuously closing and opening his mouth. He was pretty much doing an imitation of a fish.

Sibyll Trelawney was smiling from ear to ear. "Now, that one got your attention, eh?" she smirked.

"Thank goodness you're kidding. I thought it was true," he sighed.

"What's on your mind, Severus? It's quite unusual for you not to be excited about some daily dose of sizzling gossip. What's troubling you?"

"Do you see that boy dancing with the Princess? Does he look in some way familiar?" he answered instead. She looked for the boy in question in the sea of masked people, and when she found him, she immediately looked him up and down, scrutinizing his appearance, searching for any sign or action that might give way to something. Sibyll looked at the unruly, raven hair of the boy, and it seemed quite familiar, like she'd seen it before, but she couldn't quite place where or to whom the hair belonged. And after observing the person more intently for another minute or so, it hit her.

"Yes, Severus. That boy looks familiar. He acts and looks a lot like that servant of yours, Harry Potter," she finally answered.

And upon hearing this statement, Severus Snape smiled an evil smile.

After a few more dances and talking more, Harry and Hermione wandered off to the courtyard. Hermione was finding her mysterious dance partner quite interesting and so did Harry. After talking about their parents, they soon talked about some lighter conversation topics like the economical and environmental impact of smuggling of exotic animals or the development of literature over the past few years. Both of them learned something new about each other during the brief period of time that they spent together. Right now, they were talking about astronomy.

"Do you know that the stars form shapes when they're grouped? And those groups of stars are called constellations?" Hermione asked, enthralled by the beauty of the celestial bodies.

"Yes, I knew that," Harry answered. "Look, that one over there looks like a dog."

"I know that one! The name of that constellation is Canis Major."

"Where do you get all these information about the stars?" Harry questioned, now enthralled by Hermione's beauty.

"Well, when I went to Germany some years before with father, we met this astronomer by the name of Johann Bayer, and he gave me this book, Uranometria. It's about the constellations and their associated legendary figures," she answered simply.

"Really? Was it a nice read?" Harry was getting more attracted to Hermione. When he met her, he thought that she was beautiful, but he never thought that she'd be very intelligent and shrewd.

"Yes, it was. I learned so many things about the stars, and I sort of became a fanatic when it came to stars."

"You're very lucky. I'd give anything to have one of those books. You see, I've been dreaming of becoming an astronomer when I was young, but since my father died, that dream died with him," he said, envy apparent in his husky voice.

"I'll lend it to you if you like, and you shouldn't have let your dream die. You should've pursued it. Your father will be proud if you did," Hermione answered.

"Well, things got complicated when he died because my mother remarried a slimy git who's very mean to me. And then, there's the fact that when my mother died, things got more complicated. Anyway, there's no point in dwelling in the past, right?" Harry said ambiguously, closing the topic about his family.

"Right," Hermione replied, letting the subject drop.

They became silent for a few minutes, taking time in digesting the scene, the setting, and each other. And that was when they heard the noise. It was coming from the bushes on the their right.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, alarmed of the rapid rustling of the bushes.

"I don't know," replied Harry slowly. "It sounds like someone's moaning. C'mon, let's look." And they walked carefully and silently towards the sound. When they came near it, they heard voices....and heavy breathing. It was more like panting, actually.

"Oh Gregory! Kiss me more," a deep voice said huskily. And they heard more moaning.

"I love you, Vincent." And as Harry heard this, he nearly puked there and then. Hermione was giggling like a psychopath because, well, she never thought that they were...a couple.

"Let's get out of here," Harry whispered to Hermione. "I think I'm going to vomit."

"Okay," was Hermione's reply, and she led him to the palace's garden where they were very far away from the groaning couple.

"I never knew that Vincent and Gregory were a couple. I mean, I thought they were best friends because they always were with each other," Hermione said while Harry was doubled up beside a tree, puking his guts out.

"Well, I never knew Vincent was gay or Gregory was gay. It never occurred to me that they were a couple," Harry said as he stood up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "And I wish I never heard that because I will never look at them in the same way ever again. Now, I can never look them straight in the eye without getting nauseated, and believe me when I say that I will have nightmares afterwards."

"You're exaggerating. It's not that bad. I mean, there are worse things than that," she replied, "like seeing them naked." And at this, Harry's face contorted, disgust written all over it.

"Stop it! You're giving me a mental image of them naked, and THAT is scary," Harry said hastily.

"Okay then," Hermione said teasingly. "Let's just walk then or we could sit over there by the bench."

"Sure then as long as you don't talk about Vincent and/or Gregory doing ghastly things," Harry replied jokingly. He then guided her to the bench, and they sat there in silence for a few minutes, feeling awkward that they were so close to each other.

"It's a beautiful...um...night, don't you think so?" Harry stuttered nervously.

"Yes, it is," Hermione said. "It's a very beautiful night indeed."

"You know, there are other things that are very beautiful....like- y," Harry said absently, but realizing abruptly what he was about to say.

"Like what?" Hermione asked curiously, her eyebrows furrowed.

Harry's eyes widened at the question. He tried to think of an answer and finally said, "Like the stars, the flowers, the...um...the sunshine, like the green meadow, like...you."

Now, a pair of brown eyes widened. "What did you say?" Hermione stammered.

"I, um, said that you were beautiful," he answered softly. "You are. Even though I can't see your face, I find you very attractive because you're smart, you have a terrific sense of humor, and you're very kind. I had a great time tonight with you." And as Harry said this, he absently lifted his hand up to brush her hair back from her face, and it somehow settled near her face, caressing her cheek lightly. Hermione slowly edged her way near him with disbelieving and wide eyes. Harry then slowly traced her jaw line with his thumb, finally resting on her perfect chin. He gazed at her beautiful face, gradually taking in her delicate features: her brown, bright eyes, her long, seductive eyelashes, her small, cute nose, the flush on her cheeks, and those lips, those luscious, beckoning lips. Then, Harry smiled at her and closed the gap between them with a kiss.

Hermione didn't know how to react, so she did what her instincts told her and kissed him back. She felt bliss, like she was floating on a cloud. She felt like she'd breathe her last breath if Harry stopped kissing her, and she never felt this way before. Hermione didn't even mind that she just met this person and that she didn't even know his name. She just let herself drown in this moment. She then wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, trying to close what space that was left between them.

Harry buried his hands into Hermione's soft hair and clenched his hands into fists. He was relishing every bit of this kiss. He actually felt the same way that Hermione felt. He was confused and happy at the same time. He had never felt this way before, like he was falling from a high cliff and an angel caught him. He even forgot who he was for a second, forgetting that he wasn't even supposed to be here. He felt like his head was about to explode.

Then, they both pulled away from each other slowly, both gasping for oxygen.

Harry didn't want it to stop, of course. And when he was about to pull her into one more mind-boggling kiss, the most dreadful thing happened.

The huge clock in the town square started chiming.

He ignored the first four strikes, but when the sixth strike came, he remembered what Ron told him. 'Remember to be back before the clock strikes twelve. If you stay one moment longer, you'll find yourself in a very horrible situation. The magic will only last by then, so do take care of yourself...'

"Oh no!" Harry gasped. He needed to get out of here. He needed to or else he'll turn back into what he was before, a lowly servant. And this lady mustn't find out about who he really is.

"What? What's wrong?" asked Hermione carefully.

"Nothing," Harry lied. "I need to go home by now. I have...errands to do. Goodbye. I...I had a marvelous time with you tonight, my lady." He gave her one small, gentle kiss on the lips, smiled, and ran. He ran as fast as his feet could take him. He ran to the foyer and down the steps. He really needed to get out of here. If anyone saw his rags when the clock stopped chiming, he'd be in serious trouble.

"Wait! What's your name?" Hermione ran after Harry, taking off her mask while doing so. "Please, I need to know your name."

In a palace, you must have plenty of front steps, and so did this particular palace. Harry was running down the steps fast. Hermione was right behind him, slowly advancing, but he had the advantage because he wasn't wearing a heavy and long dress. When Harry was about to turn back and see if she was nearing him, he heard something snap. The string holding his mask had snapped, and it fell to the ground. He found himself staring at the girl he had just kissed moments ago. He was staring at the Princess.

"Please, I need to know your name. My name's Hermione." And Harry lost no time in turning back and running towards the carriage that looked strangely like a pumpkin. Upon entering the said carriage and swiftly closing the door shut, Harry looked back wide-eyed at the person he never thought he'd kiss in a hundred years.

Back at the stairs, Hermione slowly picked up the mask lying on the cold, marble step. She can't understand why he ran off like that, but she won't let go of him. She'll find him no matter what.

Next Chapter: Hermione begins the very looong, exhausting and exciting search for her prince charming...but will she find him amidst all the other *cough* fish in the sea?

Author's Note: Again, thank you for all those who reviewed chapter 2! If you want to look at Hermione's dress, say it in your review or email me. Fanfiction.net won't let me post the url of the site. And Johann Bayer and his book, Uranometria are real. Anyway, sorry if there are any grammatical errors or plot holes or just plain errors in this chapter. I finished this chapter when the cock was crowing.

If you have any remarks to say, any mistakes to point out, anything, you can press the button down there and say what you want to say to me.