Chapter 4

The next few days passed in relative peace, and the school buzzed with excitement as the date of the Valentine's Ball neared. On the fourth day since the Ball's announcement, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were together in the Gryffindor Common Room, struggling to complete their enormous load of Potions homework before the next day, when it was all due.

"Hemione?" Ron asked plaintively, not looking up from the one-thousand page 101 Magical Herbs and Fungi laid across his lap. "What are the healing properties of toadspraggle?"

Hermione glared sternly at Ron, shifting her knees about under Potions for the Very Stupid. "Do your own homework," she said in a voice very reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

Ron moaned hopelessly and turned back to the enormous textbook.

"A cure for toothache," Harry muttered to his friend when Hermione wasn't listening.

Thanks, mouthed Ron, and Harry grinned.

A moment later, Hermione, closed her textbook with a snap. "I'm done," she said, sounding very self-satisfied as she shoved the thick book back into her bag. "What about you?"

"Nope," Harry replied dismally, and looked once more at the worksheet on sarca he was supposed to be filling out.

Ron didn't answer, contenting himself with giving Hermione a nasty look when she turned to pick up her bag to carry it up the stairs and into her dormitory.

"Harry," Ron moaned as soon as Hermione was out of earshot, "We're doomed! As soon as Snape sees we haven't done our homework, we'll be expelled, we'll have detention . . . he'll take a hundred points from Gryffindor . . ."

Harry nodded glumly. "Hey," he said, brightening, after a moment. "At least we won't have to go to the Valentine's Ball."

This only made Ron moan louder. "But now we've finally got dates!" he pointed out. "Now it's something to look forward to."

"In a manner of speaking," Harry shot back. He was still feeling guilty for not asking Ginny when she and Ron both so obviously had expected it.

"That's right," Ron said after a moment, and shot his friend a dirty look. "I forgot who you asked. And didn't ask. And," he added pointedly, "Who is now stuck going with You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort?" Harry said as a reflex, then stopped, startled. "I mean, Malfoy?"

Ron shook his head in disbelief and resumed his frenzied perusal of 101 Magical Herbs and Fungi.

A moment later Hermione returned, bagless and frowning.

"I've just realized something terrible," she said unhappily. "The Valentine's Ball is a week away and I haven't got a date. What's worse," she added pointedly, "The two of you have."

"Well of cousre," Harry said philosophically, in one of the odd bursts of out-of-character-ness that his friends were becoming accustomed to. "In fanfiction, writers always seem to portray me as a dashing heartthrob whom everyone loves. Therefore I never have any trouble finding dates, even though in real life I'm bumbling, nervous, and can hardly gather up the courage to ask a girl to hand me back my quill. It's really very simple."

"Right," said Hermione skeptically. "Whatever you say, Harry. But I still haven't got a date for the Valentine's Ball," she said, and looked very pointedly at Ron.

Ron looked innocently away, struggling to keep the smirk off his face.

"It's not funny!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Why don't you ask Snape to the Ball?" Ron said loudly, causing several heads to turn in their direction. Hermione turned a bright shade of scarlet.

"Shhh!" she hissed. "And I've already gone through this, he's a teacher, it –,"

"You said he's only thirty," Ron said sarcastically.

"Twenty-eight," Hermione defended hotly. "But still, it would be bad."

"Then what about Sirius?" Harry broke in.

"Listen, will you two just lay off!"

To Harry's surprise, Hermione burst into tears and fled up the stairs to her dormitory.

"That was odd," said Ron.

Harry nodded. "Wonder what upset her?"

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"Listen, Draco," Ginny said seriously. She and Malfoy were sitting under a tree by the lake, out of view of the main body of students. Seeing Malfoy so – well – decent still put Ginny on her guard, but she was beginning to value him as a friend.

"Mm?" he asked languidly, and tossed a stone into the black waters of the lake. There was a ripple and a deep rumbling as the Giant Squid investigated the stone before returning to its deep home.

"I don't – I think – maybe –," she stopped and drew a breath. "Ican'tgototheballwithyou."

Malfoy stared. "Huh?"

"I can't go to the ball with you," Ginny said miserably. "I think – I mean – well . . ."

Malfoy stared some more, seeming to get angry. "Fine," he snapped. "I know, I know, you want to go with Potter, don't you? I guess you don't care he already has a date." He stood, brushing the grass from his robes and looking much more normal than he had for days. "I'll go ask Granger, then."

Ginny choked in surprise as her ex-date fled the lakeside. Hermione? Draco was going to ask Hermione? This Valentine's Ball thing was getting weirder every day. She shook her head in amazement, stood, and went off to find Harry.

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"You WHAT?" Ron bellowed, causing several students in the Common Room to look their way.

"Don't shout at me, you've already got a date!" Hermione replied, close to tears. "And I hadn't! I think he's nice!"

Ron choked. "You didn't think he was so nice when he was going with Ginny," he snapped. "And who's to say I want to go with Parvati Patil anyhow?"

"Are you saying you want to ask me?" Hermione asked frostily.

"No!" Ron replied quickly. "But what if I did?"

"Then you should have done it two weeks ago!"

Seething, Hermione whirled around and stormed up the stairs to the Gryffindor girls' dormitory. Ron was left, open-mouthed and fuming, in the Common Room.

A moment later, Harry clambered through the portrait hole. He was clutching a very large, very heavy spellbook in one hand, his wand in the other, and he looked distinctly pleased with himself.

"Well, that's it," he said happily. "I've got the Hacklebury Hex to an art, maybe I'll actually pass it on the exams this year. Say, Ron," he said, stopping as he saw Ron's face. "What's the matter?"

"Hermione," Ron muttered angrily. "She's – get this – going to the Ball with Malfoy."

Harry shuddered. "I thought he was going with Ginny?" he said. "Whatever happened?"

"Ginny told him she didn't want to," Ron said. "She wanted to go with someone else," he added pointedly, but Harry did not seem to notice.

"This Valentine's Ball thing is getting worse every day," Harry said. "What d'you bet Hermione'll end up going with Crabbe, you'll get McGonagall and I'll take Milicent Bulstrode?"

"The way things are going now, it's fair likely," Ron replied, still sulking.

"So who does Ginny want to go with?" Harry asked after a moment, laying Three Thousand Hexes for the Defenseless on the table before them and tucking his wand back into his robes.

"I should think it's obvious," Ron said frostily, sounding uncannily reminiscent of Hermione.

Harry looked nonplussed. "Neville?" he said, spotting Ginny and Neville chatting in a corner of the Common Room.

Ron gave a disgusted snort. "'Course not," he said dismissively. "Someone – famous."

Harry groaned. "You can't mean me?"

"'Course I do," Ron said, brightening. "You going to ask her, then?"

"I've asked Cho!" Harry said in horror. "What am I s'posed to do about that?"

"Tell her you can't go?" Ron replied unhelpfully.

"You're no help," Harry said, and – taking Three Thousand Hexes, he ran up to his dormitory.

Ron was left in the Common Room, looking in bewilderment after Harry.

"What was that all about?" he asked himself, and sighed.

"This is way too complicated."