A/N: Alright, for those of you who were upset with Ron laughing at Harry
about Hermione - - for those who are mad at Ron, he gets his comeuppance in
this chapter, and those who are mad at me for making Ron laugh at Harry, it
was only to establish the dynamic for the beginning of this chapter. I'd
also like to point out how much Ron likes to spit his beer out :)
Responses to some reviews:
Flutterby - - *lol* Such is what happens when your main writing time is one in the morning. Thanks, though, for pointing that out!
Xugra - - I got that from someone else, and I just couldn't resist. It really degrades his manliness. Then again, he seems to take it in stride pretty well. That is why I love our little Ollie Wood!
Lampada - - I think the Simpson's are the root of all that is funny in this world. Everyone needs to see that episode. "These berries taste like burning!" Hahaha.
Draco_Fan - - I'm not too sure if I'm going to add much Ginny/Draco in this fic except for mentioning it in passing, and perhaps having them go out for dinner sometime with the trio and who ever Ron is shagging at the time. I'll think about it though.
So, here we are at the start of a new chapter. Enjoy, and don't forget to review! Also, I'm looking for a beta for this story as mine has gone in search of a topic for her doctorate thesis. Let me know by email (faiarygal@yahoo.com) or in a review!
Chapter 4: Some Good Natured Fun
"What the hell, Ron? You're supposed to be my friend. Be supportive of me. Not laugh at me!"
"I'm sorry Harry. It's just that it explains a lot about everything. Truthfully, I don't know why I didn't see it before."
"Too busy shagging anything that walks?"
"Shut up, Harry."
Harry chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen for another beer.
"You want another one?"
"Yeah, thanks. But, back to the subject at hand, what are you going to do about it?"
Harry sighed.
"I don't know. I can't deal with being just her friend any more."
"Just whose friend?"
Hermione walked purposefully into the room and squished into the same chair as Harry, plucking the bottle of beer from his hand and taking a sip, blanching at the taste.
"If you hate it so much, why do you drink it?" Harry asked, accepting the bottle back from her.
Hermione shrugged.
"So, who are we talking about? Harry's mystery girl?"
Ron spit a mouthful of beer back into the bottle as he tried to contain his laughter. Harry gave Ron a sharp kick in the shin.
"Ow."
"Harry! What was that for?" Hermione snapped looking at him.
"Ron doesn't know how to keep his big mouth shut!" Harry responded, throwing a hard glare at Ron.
"Seriously, Harry, he's just having a chuckle at your expense." Hermione threw Ron a wicked smile.
"Don't you have somewhere to be, Ron? Isn't there some girl demanding your attention this week?" Harry asked.
"Not that I'm aware of," Ron answered amusedly.
Harry shot Ron another look and made to leave the chair.
"Oh come on, Harry! You're not acting like your self. What's wrong?" Hermione pulled him back down by the arm.
"Nothing, really. I just told Ron something and now he sees fit to make a big, gigantic, "Ron-like" deal out of it. I wish he wouldn't though."
"Is it about me?" Hermione looked fretfully at her friend, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. "Did I do something wrong in Ireland? Was it that story I told? It ended up in the paper, didn't it? Oh God, Harry, I'm soooo sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up, it just seemed like a good time. I didn't think that anyone from the Prophet would be hanging around the table."
Harry's eyes widened and he grabbed Hermione's hand. "NO! Hermione, you did everything right in Ireland! You were wonderful! I didn't mean to make you think you did something wrong."
Harry lifted his hands to her cheeks, looking her right in the eyes.
"Hermione, you're perfect. You didn't do a thing wrong."
"If I pick up the Prophet when I get in and I see an article about Harry Soul Train, you'll answer to me, you understand?"
"If it's there, I have no idea about it. And even if I did, I wouldn't get mad at you about it. I could never be mad at you."
"What about that time in third year when I told McGonagall about your Firebolt?
"Well, I mean - -"
"Or that time in sixth year when I went with Draco to that Ball because I felt bad for him?"
"Hermione, what I meant was - -"
"Or a year ago when I got pissed at the World Cup Gala and did a striptease on the Head Table?"
"I NEVER got mad you for that! I seem to remember having a good, long, hard laugh about that. You're pretty cute in just your knickers, Ms. Granger," Harry added, pinching Hermione's side.
Hermione jumped and slapped Harry on his shoulder. Ron had again spit his beer out, but this time onto the floor.
"She did what? Where was I?" Ron asked hurriedly.
"Smoozing some girls at the bar, if I remember correctly."
"We're not going to talk about this," Hermione interjected.
"But, Hermione! You told everyone the falling on my ass/dancing story. Why can't I tell Ron about your drinking too much/stripping for the French Minister of Magic story?"
"THE FRENCH MINISTER OF MAGIC?"
"And his wife."
"Really, I don't think he remembers it at all. He was quite drunk. And so was June." Hermione squirmed uncomfortably under Harry and Ron's gaze.
"It's kind of hard to think of Hermione, OUR Hermione, dancing naked in front of a diplomat."
"I wasn't naked, per se. Just severely under clothed."
"Let me tell you something, Ron. This little girl has more of a body than she lets on."
"Harry!"
*~*~*~*
Harry poked his head into Hermione's flat room.
"Hermione, are you still not talking to me?"
"Maybe," Hermione answered from her room. "It depends on whether you're sorry or not."
"I still don't understand why I'm in trouble. I only stated fact. You have a nice body, Hermione."
"It's the principle of the thing."
"Hermione, you haven't talked to me in three weeks! I think I learned my lesson. From now on, you have a scraggily old woman body!"
"HARRY!"
Hermione shot out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a bra.
"I take that back. Hermione, you're gorgeous," Harry responded, his eyes drawn to Hermione's body.
Hermione realized her situation and ran back to her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Harry's laugh rang off the walls in the hallway.
"Come on, Hermione! Get dressed! We've got to get going if I'm going to make it in time for practice."
Hermione's hand shot to her mouth. In her mock anger at Harry, she had completely forgotten about the World Cup.
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Harry! I'm late, and I don't even have a dress for the Gala tonight!"
"What makes you think you're going tonight?"
Suddenly, the drawers stop slamming. The door creaked open and Hermione's nose poked out.
"I didn't mean to be presumptuous, Harry. I'm sorry."
Harry tried to keep a straight face as he looked at Hermione peaking from behind the door. He walked over to the door, keeping himself eye level with Hermione.
"Serves you right. If you must know I'm taking someone from the Ministry with me tonight. You seemed like you didn't want to have much to do with me these past three weeks."
"Oh. Well, that's great for you. Who is it?"
"Oh, just one of the researchers. Brown hair, brown eyes. Maybe you know her?"
"If she works in research, I might."
"Goes by the name snobby-know-it-all. I think someone told me her real name was Hermione Granger though."
With reflexes born from years of Quidditch, Harry deposited a quick kiss on Hermione's nose before darting away out of arm's reach.
"Harry! I hate you!"
"Sure you do! Let's go! And about the dress, it's Paris, Hermione. I'm sure you can find something before tonight. Ginny's coming along with Draco, so you two can go. Just put on a jumper and get your arse out here."
Harry walked from the flat, Hermione on his heels moments later. The friends descended the steps into Ollivander's, and after waving good bye to Mr. Ollivander, made for the street.
"Good luck tomorrow, Harry! We'll be rooting for you."
"Thanks, Mr. Ollivander. I'll be back in a few days for the back to school rush," Harry called as they walked out the door.
Unfortunately, walking out the door wasn't the best idea. They were immediately surrounded by reporters, who immediately jumped to conclusions.
"Mr. Potter! Have you finally started dating Ms. Granger?" an over-zealous reporter called.
"Harry!"
"Of course not. Hermione has had a flat here with Ron and I since we left Hogwarts."
"Mr. Potter! Is it true she's accompanying you tonight to the Gala?"
"Harry!"
"Of course she is! She always comes with me."
"Ms. Granger, what will you be wearing tonight? Something to draw Harry's attention, I'm sure."
"Hermione's buying her dress when we arrive in Paris. And, I don't like your implications, Ms. Jennings. Say something like that about Hermione again, and the post game interview is off."
"Harry! Hermione!"
Harry's head shifted towards the high-pitched voice that was calling his attention. He finally saw in the back of the crowd a small red head jumping up and down trying to get his attention.
"If you'll excuse us, Mrs. Malfoy is here. We're leaving."
Harry took Hermione's hand and pulled her through the crowd, Hermione being shocked by the crowd. They pushed through a few more over anxious reporters and made their way over to Ginny and Draco.
"Gin. I'm sorry. Crazy here before a match." Harry took the young red head into a brief hug before turning to her husband. "Draco. How are you, mate?"
Harry extended his hand warmly to Draco.
"Not too bad. You seem to draw some attention to yourself."
"Unintentionally, I assure you."
Hermione moved to Harry's side, hugging Ginny and sharing a kiss on the cheek with Draco.
"How are you both?"
"Wonderful. Let's get out of here." Draco motioned to the crowd of reporters that were starting to migrate over to the group.
Harry took Hermione's hand and with a wave of his hand the two instantly appeared in front of the French Quidditch stadium. The hype around it was incredible. For the first time in over 25 years, the United States Nation Team had made the Quidditch Cup finals. And, the fact that Harry Potter was playing in the game pulled an even larger crowd. Hermione looked around her, marveling how so many magical people could be in the same area without the muggles getting suspicious. Then again, she had helped to design the spell that went over the entire area, so some of it was nothing of a mystery to her.
Harry took both of her hands and turned her towards him.
"You'll be alright with Ginny, right?"
Hermione nodded.
"Good. I'll be back to the room we have at like five, and we'll leave at six. So that gives you 3 hours. You can find the hotel?"
"We were here last year, Harry."
"Alright, alright. Be careful okay? Take my Gringott's key. Stick to the Wizard shops and use the key to pay for the dress."
Harry kissed the palm of his hand and pressed it to Hermione's forehead before she could protest and thrust the key into Hermione's hand, and turned for the locker rooms. Draco kissed his wife as well and started towards the grounds to make some final preparations for the next day.
Ginny looped her arm through Hermione's and gave her an evil smile.
"We have Harry's Potter's Gringott's key. We are going to find you the best dress EVER!"
Hermione laughed at her best girl friend and started down the street.
"So, how is the whole Harry-thing going?"
"It's futile, Ginny. He has his eye on some other witch or something. He was saying something to Ron a couple weeks ago about wanting to say something to her. It's pointless to fawn over him."
Ginny smiled weakly at Hermione. Besides her mother, Ginny was the only one who knew about Hermione's crush on Harry.
"Well, we're going to blow him away tonight with your dress. There will be no other witches on his mind but you."
Ginny tugged Hermione into the first shop and slapped Harry's key on the front desk.
"Ms. Hermione Granger needs a dress for the World Cup Gala tonight! We're using Harry Potter's Gringott's key so give us the best you've got."
The witch behind the counter picked up the key and placed it into a weird contraption that give her a read out when she turned it. Her eyes widened and she read the names of Hermione Granger and Ginny Malfoy on the approved users list and widened even more when she saw how much money was available in the vault.
"Of course Mrs. Malfoy. Ms. Granger. What color will Mr. Potter be wearing tonight?"
"Um, I never really asked him. I'm sure it's some variation of black and emerald green. He never wears anything but."
Ginny nodded in agreement.
"If we want to be sure, I can check the records of the shop he bought his outfit from?"
"You can do that with a vault key?!" Hermione asked incredulously.
"Of course, Hermione dear. This is the 21st century after all." Ginny threw Hermione a smile as the witch went back to her computer.
"I won't tell you the style, but I can tell you that you were exactly right on the colors. We've just got some dresses in the emerald green last night. Let's see what we have."
*~*~*~*
"Ginny! We've been here for almost two hours. I feel like I've tried on every dress in this shop."
There was silence from the back room and suddenly she heard Ginny gasp.
"'ermione, I found it!" came Ginny's muffled voice
Ginny came shooting out of the back room with a pile of deep emerald green silk in her hands.
"This is the last one. If this isn't the best dress you've ever seen, we'll go and transfigure one for you!"
Hermione sighed, but took the dress from Ginny. In the dressing room, Hermione slipped the silk over her head. As the dress fell in turrets around her, she looked into the mirror. It was a bit tighter than she was used to, but it was perfect.
"Ginny! This is the one!" Hermione pushed her way out of the dressing room.
"Oh my God! Hermione! It's even better on you!"
Hermione picked up the price tag on the dress and tried to stifle a gasp.
"Ginny, we can't buy this. It'll kill Harry's money - - "
"I assure you, Ms. Granger, that Harry has enough money in his account to afford about 10 of these dresses and 10 matching tuxedos."
Hermione turned around in front of the mirror again.
"Alright. I'll take it."
Responses to some reviews:
Flutterby - - *lol* Such is what happens when your main writing time is one in the morning. Thanks, though, for pointing that out!
Xugra - - I got that from someone else, and I just couldn't resist. It really degrades his manliness. Then again, he seems to take it in stride pretty well. That is why I love our little Ollie Wood!
Lampada - - I think the Simpson's are the root of all that is funny in this world. Everyone needs to see that episode. "These berries taste like burning!" Hahaha.
Draco_Fan - - I'm not too sure if I'm going to add much Ginny/Draco in this fic except for mentioning it in passing, and perhaps having them go out for dinner sometime with the trio and who ever Ron is shagging at the time. I'll think about it though.
So, here we are at the start of a new chapter. Enjoy, and don't forget to review! Also, I'm looking for a beta for this story as mine has gone in search of a topic for her doctorate thesis. Let me know by email (faiarygal@yahoo.com) or in a review!
Chapter 4: Some Good Natured Fun
"What the hell, Ron? You're supposed to be my friend. Be supportive of me. Not laugh at me!"
"I'm sorry Harry. It's just that it explains a lot about everything. Truthfully, I don't know why I didn't see it before."
"Too busy shagging anything that walks?"
"Shut up, Harry."
Harry chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen for another beer.
"You want another one?"
"Yeah, thanks. But, back to the subject at hand, what are you going to do about it?"
Harry sighed.
"I don't know. I can't deal with being just her friend any more."
"Just whose friend?"
Hermione walked purposefully into the room and squished into the same chair as Harry, plucking the bottle of beer from his hand and taking a sip, blanching at the taste.
"If you hate it so much, why do you drink it?" Harry asked, accepting the bottle back from her.
Hermione shrugged.
"So, who are we talking about? Harry's mystery girl?"
Ron spit a mouthful of beer back into the bottle as he tried to contain his laughter. Harry gave Ron a sharp kick in the shin.
"Ow."
"Harry! What was that for?" Hermione snapped looking at him.
"Ron doesn't know how to keep his big mouth shut!" Harry responded, throwing a hard glare at Ron.
"Seriously, Harry, he's just having a chuckle at your expense." Hermione threw Ron a wicked smile.
"Don't you have somewhere to be, Ron? Isn't there some girl demanding your attention this week?" Harry asked.
"Not that I'm aware of," Ron answered amusedly.
Harry shot Ron another look and made to leave the chair.
"Oh come on, Harry! You're not acting like your self. What's wrong?" Hermione pulled him back down by the arm.
"Nothing, really. I just told Ron something and now he sees fit to make a big, gigantic, "Ron-like" deal out of it. I wish he wouldn't though."
"Is it about me?" Hermione looked fretfully at her friend, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. "Did I do something wrong in Ireland? Was it that story I told? It ended up in the paper, didn't it? Oh God, Harry, I'm soooo sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up, it just seemed like a good time. I didn't think that anyone from the Prophet would be hanging around the table."
Harry's eyes widened and he grabbed Hermione's hand. "NO! Hermione, you did everything right in Ireland! You were wonderful! I didn't mean to make you think you did something wrong."
Harry lifted his hands to her cheeks, looking her right in the eyes.
"Hermione, you're perfect. You didn't do a thing wrong."
"If I pick up the Prophet when I get in and I see an article about Harry Soul Train, you'll answer to me, you understand?"
"If it's there, I have no idea about it. And even if I did, I wouldn't get mad at you about it. I could never be mad at you."
"What about that time in third year when I told McGonagall about your Firebolt?
"Well, I mean - -"
"Or that time in sixth year when I went with Draco to that Ball because I felt bad for him?"
"Hermione, what I meant was - -"
"Or a year ago when I got pissed at the World Cup Gala and did a striptease on the Head Table?"
"I NEVER got mad you for that! I seem to remember having a good, long, hard laugh about that. You're pretty cute in just your knickers, Ms. Granger," Harry added, pinching Hermione's side.
Hermione jumped and slapped Harry on his shoulder. Ron had again spit his beer out, but this time onto the floor.
"She did what? Where was I?" Ron asked hurriedly.
"Smoozing some girls at the bar, if I remember correctly."
"We're not going to talk about this," Hermione interjected.
"But, Hermione! You told everyone the falling on my ass/dancing story. Why can't I tell Ron about your drinking too much/stripping for the French Minister of Magic story?"
"THE FRENCH MINISTER OF MAGIC?"
"And his wife."
"Really, I don't think he remembers it at all. He was quite drunk. And so was June." Hermione squirmed uncomfortably under Harry and Ron's gaze.
"It's kind of hard to think of Hermione, OUR Hermione, dancing naked in front of a diplomat."
"I wasn't naked, per se. Just severely under clothed."
"Let me tell you something, Ron. This little girl has more of a body than she lets on."
"Harry!"
*~*~*~*
Harry poked his head into Hermione's flat room.
"Hermione, are you still not talking to me?"
"Maybe," Hermione answered from her room. "It depends on whether you're sorry or not."
"I still don't understand why I'm in trouble. I only stated fact. You have a nice body, Hermione."
"It's the principle of the thing."
"Hermione, you haven't talked to me in three weeks! I think I learned my lesson. From now on, you have a scraggily old woman body!"
"HARRY!"
Hermione shot out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a bra.
"I take that back. Hermione, you're gorgeous," Harry responded, his eyes drawn to Hermione's body.
Hermione realized her situation and ran back to her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Harry's laugh rang off the walls in the hallway.
"Come on, Hermione! Get dressed! We've got to get going if I'm going to make it in time for practice."
Hermione's hand shot to her mouth. In her mock anger at Harry, she had completely forgotten about the World Cup.
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Harry! I'm late, and I don't even have a dress for the Gala tonight!"
"What makes you think you're going tonight?"
Suddenly, the drawers stop slamming. The door creaked open and Hermione's nose poked out.
"I didn't mean to be presumptuous, Harry. I'm sorry."
Harry tried to keep a straight face as he looked at Hermione peaking from behind the door. He walked over to the door, keeping himself eye level with Hermione.
"Serves you right. If you must know I'm taking someone from the Ministry with me tonight. You seemed like you didn't want to have much to do with me these past three weeks."
"Oh. Well, that's great for you. Who is it?"
"Oh, just one of the researchers. Brown hair, brown eyes. Maybe you know her?"
"If she works in research, I might."
"Goes by the name snobby-know-it-all. I think someone told me her real name was Hermione Granger though."
With reflexes born from years of Quidditch, Harry deposited a quick kiss on Hermione's nose before darting away out of arm's reach.
"Harry! I hate you!"
"Sure you do! Let's go! And about the dress, it's Paris, Hermione. I'm sure you can find something before tonight. Ginny's coming along with Draco, so you two can go. Just put on a jumper and get your arse out here."
Harry walked from the flat, Hermione on his heels moments later. The friends descended the steps into Ollivander's, and after waving good bye to Mr. Ollivander, made for the street.
"Good luck tomorrow, Harry! We'll be rooting for you."
"Thanks, Mr. Ollivander. I'll be back in a few days for the back to school rush," Harry called as they walked out the door.
Unfortunately, walking out the door wasn't the best idea. They were immediately surrounded by reporters, who immediately jumped to conclusions.
"Mr. Potter! Have you finally started dating Ms. Granger?" an over-zealous reporter called.
"Harry!"
"Of course not. Hermione has had a flat here with Ron and I since we left Hogwarts."
"Mr. Potter! Is it true she's accompanying you tonight to the Gala?"
"Harry!"
"Of course she is! She always comes with me."
"Ms. Granger, what will you be wearing tonight? Something to draw Harry's attention, I'm sure."
"Hermione's buying her dress when we arrive in Paris. And, I don't like your implications, Ms. Jennings. Say something like that about Hermione again, and the post game interview is off."
"Harry! Hermione!"
Harry's head shifted towards the high-pitched voice that was calling his attention. He finally saw in the back of the crowd a small red head jumping up and down trying to get his attention.
"If you'll excuse us, Mrs. Malfoy is here. We're leaving."
Harry took Hermione's hand and pulled her through the crowd, Hermione being shocked by the crowd. They pushed through a few more over anxious reporters and made their way over to Ginny and Draco.
"Gin. I'm sorry. Crazy here before a match." Harry took the young red head into a brief hug before turning to her husband. "Draco. How are you, mate?"
Harry extended his hand warmly to Draco.
"Not too bad. You seem to draw some attention to yourself."
"Unintentionally, I assure you."
Hermione moved to Harry's side, hugging Ginny and sharing a kiss on the cheek with Draco.
"How are you both?"
"Wonderful. Let's get out of here." Draco motioned to the crowd of reporters that were starting to migrate over to the group.
Harry took Hermione's hand and with a wave of his hand the two instantly appeared in front of the French Quidditch stadium. The hype around it was incredible. For the first time in over 25 years, the United States Nation Team had made the Quidditch Cup finals. And, the fact that Harry Potter was playing in the game pulled an even larger crowd. Hermione looked around her, marveling how so many magical people could be in the same area without the muggles getting suspicious. Then again, she had helped to design the spell that went over the entire area, so some of it was nothing of a mystery to her.
Harry took both of her hands and turned her towards him.
"You'll be alright with Ginny, right?"
Hermione nodded.
"Good. I'll be back to the room we have at like five, and we'll leave at six. So that gives you 3 hours. You can find the hotel?"
"We were here last year, Harry."
"Alright, alright. Be careful okay? Take my Gringott's key. Stick to the Wizard shops and use the key to pay for the dress."
Harry kissed the palm of his hand and pressed it to Hermione's forehead before she could protest and thrust the key into Hermione's hand, and turned for the locker rooms. Draco kissed his wife as well and started towards the grounds to make some final preparations for the next day.
Ginny looped her arm through Hermione's and gave her an evil smile.
"We have Harry's Potter's Gringott's key. We are going to find you the best dress EVER!"
Hermione laughed at her best girl friend and started down the street.
"So, how is the whole Harry-thing going?"
"It's futile, Ginny. He has his eye on some other witch or something. He was saying something to Ron a couple weeks ago about wanting to say something to her. It's pointless to fawn over him."
Ginny smiled weakly at Hermione. Besides her mother, Ginny was the only one who knew about Hermione's crush on Harry.
"Well, we're going to blow him away tonight with your dress. There will be no other witches on his mind but you."
Ginny tugged Hermione into the first shop and slapped Harry's key on the front desk.
"Ms. Hermione Granger needs a dress for the World Cup Gala tonight! We're using Harry Potter's Gringott's key so give us the best you've got."
The witch behind the counter picked up the key and placed it into a weird contraption that give her a read out when she turned it. Her eyes widened and she read the names of Hermione Granger and Ginny Malfoy on the approved users list and widened even more when she saw how much money was available in the vault.
"Of course Mrs. Malfoy. Ms. Granger. What color will Mr. Potter be wearing tonight?"
"Um, I never really asked him. I'm sure it's some variation of black and emerald green. He never wears anything but."
Ginny nodded in agreement.
"If we want to be sure, I can check the records of the shop he bought his outfit from?"
"You can do that with a vault key?!" Hermione asked incredulously.
"Of course, Hermione dear. This is the 21st century after all." Ginny threw Hermione a smile as the witch went back to her computer.
"I won't tell you the style, but I can tell you that you were exactly right on the colors. We've just got some dresses in the emerald green last night. Let's see what we have."
*~*~*~*
"Ginny! We've been here for almost two hours. I feel like I've tried on every dress in this shop."
There was silence from the back room and suddenly she heard Ginny gasp.
"'ermione, I found it!" came Ginny's muffled voice
Ginny came shooting out of the back room with a pile of deep emerald green silk in her hands.
"This is the last one. If this isn't the best dress you've ever seen, we'll go and transfigure one for you!"
Hermione sighed, but took the dress from Ginny. In the dressing room, Hermione slipped the silk over her head. As the dress fell in turrets around her, she looked into the mirror. It was a bit tighter than she was used to, but it was perfect.
"Ginny! This is the one!" Hermione pushed her way out of the dressing room.
"Oh my God! Hermione! It's even better on you!"
Hermione picked up the price tag on the dress and tried to stifle a gasp.
"Ginny, we can't buy this. It'll kill Harry's money - - "
"I assure you, Ms. Granger, that Harry has enough money in his account to afford about 10 of these dresses and 10 matching tuxedos."
Hermione turned around in front of the mirror again.
"Alright. I'll take it."
