Harry woke with the dawn on Christmas morning, and immediately leaped out of bed, feeling invigorated and alive. Spying the small pile of presents at the end of his bed, he grinned widely and went to wake Ron.
"Mum, go back to sleep," mumbled the redhead, turning over and continuing to snore softly.
"Ron, get up you muppet, its Christmas!" said Harry, clonking him on the head.
"No it's not, you get me the muffin,"
"ROANLD WEASLEY!" roared Harry in his best impression of Ron's mum, and chuckled as the sleeping boy suddenly flew up straight, his eyes wide with fright.
"It was Fred and George-"
"Don't worry, it's just me," said Harry, still grinning hugely at his terrified friend.
"Bloody hell Harry, there are other ways to wake a person you know. Or at least give me a bit of warning, especially on…hand on, its Christmas! Why didn't you tell me?" he exclaimed, leaping out of bed and grabbing his own pile of presents. Harry rolled his eyes and went to open his own gifts, still chuckling to himself.
When all their presents were unwrapped they donned their usual knitted jumpers from Mrs Weasley, and went to find Hermione, purposing to make their peace with her for the sake of the holidays. They were amazed to find her reading in the common room.
"Hermione, what on earth are you doing?" asked Ron in disgust.
"Really, 'Mione, it's still months till the OWLs," agreed Harry.
"Well, I have been spending a lot of time with Draco these past few days, (both boys bristled at this) and I am determined not to let it affect my studies. Besides, this is really quite interesting," she explained, showing the cover of the large volume.
"Advanced Arithmancy by Archimedes A. Roundbottom" stated stern gold letters. Beneath the writing was a picture of a rather dumpy, even sterner looking wizard with a perfectly curled moustache and a monocle.
"Roundbottom seems pretty accurate," said Ron, stifling a giggle. The wizard frowned at him disapprovingly, and Hermione snatched her book back, with a matching frown.
"Ron, don't be so childish. This man is a genius – his work on formulae is fascinating. I've been dying for this book, and my parents sent it to me, which shows they've gone to a lot of effort, so you had better shut up."
"S, sorry Hermione," stuttered Ron, his face red from the effort of holding back his laughter. She tutted, but put down the book, just as Seamus Finnigan came leaping down the stairs.
"Morning all!" he said brightly. "Dean and Neville have gone home for the holidays, so do you three mind if I stick around today?" They shook their heads and he grinned and sat down. "I had the weirdest dream about your mum last night, Weasley. It was like she was actually there in the dorm, and she was yelling at you. Pretty scary, really."
Ron grinned. "She can be a pretty scary woman," he said, avoiding Harry's eye.
"So, did any of you get any good presents? What about you Harry? Get another family heirloom, or a few more Firebolts? Nice jumper, by the way," he added, smirking.
"I'm afraid not. And thanks," answered Harry, pulling a face at him.
"Hey, I was jut saying!" he exclaimed, putting up his hands in mock defence. "Say, shall we go and find some breakfast? I bet the house elves have outdone themselves again," and without waiting for an answer, he bounded away towards the portrait hole.
Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. "He seems uh, enthusiastic," attempted Harry.
"Fred and George probably slipped him some sort of prank sweet," said Ron, but a grin found its way onto his face.
"Maybe, but it's most likely he's just eaten too much sugar before breakfast," ended Hermione. "Well, we had better go and find him before he tries to fly down the stairs or something," and she moved purposefully towards the portrait hole. Stifling giggles for the second time that morning, Harry and Ron followed obediently, each deliberately avoiding the other's eye.
They found him in the Great Hall, stuffing eggs and bacon into his mouth as quickly as he could. "I thought you three would never get here," he said without stopping to swallow his mouthful of food. "Look, it snowed again during the night – are you up for a snowball fight? Fred and George and loads of others are already out there, and they're giving away a huge box of their sweets and chocolate to the winning team," he announced, his eyes glittering.
"Well, if we win, you're certainly not getting a bean," muttered Ron, as Seamus continued to chatter non-stop while still shovelling breakfast into his mouth.
Hermione didn't hear much of the rather one-sided conversation. She gazed at Draco who had his back to her at the Slytherin table. Pansy Parkinson was chattering excitedly to him but from his slumping posture Hermione guessed her was completely disinterested. "Harry," she wondered. "When are you going to give Sere… I mean Sîan her present?
Harry's breakfast suddenly seemed like a dead weight in his stomach. During the past few days he had been trying to take Hermione's advice and not worry about his girlfriend's fake identity; to tell the truth, he had almost forgotten about it, apart from when he was buying her present. But now he could no longer hide from her – at some point today they would have to meet. "Harry!" called a female voice, and he wince, before forcing a smile and turning to greet Serena.
"I haven't seen you for ages! How have you been?" she asked cheerfully.
"Um, OK, I guess," he answered carefully.
"Do you want to meet up after the Feast this evening? We could sneak off during the Yule Ball and go for that walk you promised me…" she trailed off, noticing Harry's less than enthusiasm.
"OK, that sounds good."
"Great! I, uh, I'll see you later then,"
"Yeah. See you."
She turned and hurried from the Hall, before anyone noticed her pained expression. "What have I done wrong?" she wondered.
"For goodness sake, Harry, you could have made a little more effort!" scolded Hermione. "I know things can't be brilliant between you two, but she's obviously trying to make it work, so give her a break! And who knows, she may even want to tell you… things," she added, glancing sideways at Seamus, but to her surprise, he had disappeared.
"Blimey, that was quick," breathed Ron.
"I know, 'Mione, but I just can't understand why," said Harry sadly.
"This is depressing," decided Ron. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to join the snowball fight. I could do with a few of Fred and George's joke sweets to cheer me up. I'd feed 'em all to Malfoy… I mean er, Crabbe and Goyle," he said, catching Hermione's glare. Harry shrugged indifferently, and the three friends got up to join the fun outside.
The rest of the day passed very pleasantly, though in mid-afternoon Seamus spontaneously grew a tail, performed a vigourous jig, then lost his enthusiastic streak altogether. No one was surprised when Fred and George mysteriously disappeared for a few hours, and though Seamus' tail fell out after a couple of minutes, he was extremely embarrassed, and vowed to take his revenge on the Weasley twins. Ron did not win the snowball fight, and the box of confectionary went to Katie Bell. Fred and George conveniently forgot to tell her that they were prank sweets, and everyone who knew were too curious to see the results to inform her.
As the sun sank over the snow-topped trees, so did the hearts of Harry and Ron. Sunset meant the Christmas Feast, and inevitably, the Yule Ball. Hermione has disappeared to "get ready" several hours before, and now, with half an hour to go, Harry and Ron decided to do the same.
They dragged themselves up to their dorm, and pulled out their dusty dress robes. Ron's sleeved had frayed almost up to the elbow, but he managed to charm them longer, and secured them with a wobbly hem. Both his and Harry's robes were several inches too short (they had both grown much taller over the past year), and after trying various lengthening spells, they gave up and took them to Hermione. She wouldn't let them see her, but stuck her hand out of the door, took the robes, and threw them out again a couple of minutes later, grumbling "Honestly, can't boys do anything for themselves?"
Picking up the bundles of material, they took them back up to the dorm, and reluctantly began to get changed. When they were done, both boys had to admit they look pretty good. The robes were exactly the right length, they looked and smelled clean, and even Ron's musty, moth-eaten velvet number looked very acceptable, even attractive. He examined himself in the mirror, trying not to smile at his appearance.
"You know, Hermione is pretty useful sometimes," he said casually, wrenching himself away from his reflection to face Harry. He stifled a giggle when he sae him attempting to brush his unruly dark hair into a ridiculous side parting. "Erm, Harry, isn't this just a little too much effort fro your girlfriend?"
"Well, I don't want to look stupid Ron. Besides, I think it looks pretty good.
At this Ron laughed outright, but Harry just frowned at him.
"Now, if I could only transfigure my glasses into contact lenses so I'd look a bit more sophisticated…"
"Contact lenses?"
"Like glasses, only they're really thin, and you put them in your eye… never mind, it's a Muggle thing."
"Oh. It sounded a bit complicated."
"Well, it's time we graced the school with our appearance. How do I look?"
"Really Harry, you're as vain as Lavender or Parvati! And if you want to know, you look like an idiot," chuckled Ron.
Harry just grinned and pulled a face. "Wait Ron! You don't have a date!"
Ron groaned. "You know what, I honestly don't care."
"That's the spirit. Now come on, let's go."
They set off at a brisk walk, but as they saw the hundreds of other students heading in the same direction, talking excitedly about the coming evening, their pace slowed until they were snailing along, each step one closer to the nightmare before them.
Halfway down the main staircase a though struck Harry like a thunderbolt and his heart dropped to his feet. He might have to dance with Serena. He hadn't danced since the last disastrous Yule Ball, and he severely doubted he had developed any natural talent for dancing since then. He gulped and forced his legs to keep moving, hoping against hope that his girlfriend didn't care for ballroom.
Twenty minutes later, the boys sat at the Gryffindor table, still waiting for Hermione to make an appearance.
"You'd think that after spending all day locked up doing who knows what to herself, she'd want to actually turn up sometime." Said Ron, pursing his lips.
Harry didn't reply. He was staring around the Hall looking for Serena, but suddenly something else diverted his attention and he grabbed Ron's arm, speechless. Hermione waved at them from the doorway, before making her way over. Her gown was of deepest navy, and tiny silver stars caught the light as the fabric swayed gently around her slender figure. Her hair was no longer bushy, but hung in perfectly controlled tendrils from the back of her head, and shiny locks framed her face. Her make up was natural, but enhance her features enourmously, and she moved with a delicate yet decisive grace.
Harry and Ron stared at her, mouths open, as she sat down. "Mione, you-" began Harry, but could find no other words. "She looks so… womanly and mature," he thought onderingly.
"Do you think Draco will like my dress? I spent over an hour transfiguring it from one of your old socks Ron, I hope you don't mind."
"Uhh…" Ron gurgles, his mouth still hanging open.
Hermione eyed him amusedly. "Fair enough… Harry! What on earth have you done to your hair?? Come here." Harry obediently bent his head towards her and Ron watched smugly as Hermione ran her hands through it, until it sprung back into its usual untidy mop. She rolled her eyes. "You boys are hopeless. Pass me the potatoes Ron, I'm starving."
"I did try to tell you it looked awful," grinned Ron.
xXx
The next few hours passed in a hazy blur of anxiety and nerves. Harry's Christmas Feast weighed heavy in his stomach, and he glanced furtively around, dreading the sight of Serena, but wanting to see her all the same.
All too soon the tables were being moved to the sides of the Hall, and a motley crew of witches and wizards in the latest fashions arrived and began setting up a band on a raised platform. Harry shrank into a corner, wanting to disappear from the world entirely. Hermione had disappeared with Draco, and only Ron remained to offer him silent support. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the small box in there, to remind himself why he had turned up to the Feast.
Music began to play. Harry's intestines tied themselves in knots as he waited for Serena to find him, and humiliate him utterly on the dance floor. But she didn't com. Half an hour passed and there was still no sign of her. Harry started to breathe again as he sat looking out of the window, but the sound of soft footsteps approaching made him turn his head slowly. "Please, please let it be Hermione," he prayed. He looked up into large brown eyes, and forced a smile.
"Hey Sîan."