A/N: THANK YOU to everyone who took the time to review in the past. I'm so thrilled that everyone likes this story, and I want you to know that your comments mean more than you could imagine. This part wasn't supposed to be in the story originally, but I got struck with the idea this morning and decided to write it and see how it turned out. I think it turned out pretty well, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I wish.

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The annual Christmas Eve party was an event hosted each year by the Grangers for their friends, family, business associates, and clients. The entire downstairs was transformed each year into a festive holiday themed gathering area, and for as long as Hermione could remember, she had hated the whole thing. The last time she'd attended one of these events had been during the Christmas break of her first year at Hogwarts. Then, she'd been an eleven year old girl who had been shoved into a frilly dress and in front of a piano in order to entertain the guests. She had one thought to this as she stood in front of her bedroom mirror twisting her hair all over her head trying to decide whether to wear it up or leave it down. One single thought.

Her parents had both been inhaling too much of the laughing gas they used on their patients if they thought she was stepping a single foot near a damn piano.

She sighed with exasperation, finally dropping her hair and letting it fall down over her shoulders in straight thick layers. It looked incredibly "blah" to her.

"Where the hell is Lavender Brown when you need her?!" she asked the mirror in frustration. She half-expected it to answer her back before realizing that she was in the Muggle world, and in the Muggle world, mirrors do not comment back when asked a question.

However, boys from outside the door do. A knock sounded, and she jumped before calling for the knocker to come in. Ron and Harry both stepped in, and Harry was smirking as he answered her earlier question.

"I don't know where she is, but I'm sure she'd like to be somewhere snogging with Seamus Finnigan." He grinned. "Oh, and by the way. Don't swear."

Hermione rolled her eyes before turning back to the mirror and tugging at her hair in a rather rough manner. "I hate my hair!"

"You should have left it curly," Ron commented straight-forwardly.

Hermione scowled at her reflection. "I hated it worse then."

"I think it looks nice," Harry said finally. "Who are you trying to impress anyway?"

"Only a hundred people I haven't seen in four years," she answered droningly.

"How'd you do your hair for the Ball?" Ron crossed the room and perched himself on her bed. "You know, when you had the little ringlet thingies." He twirled his finger around his head to illustrate.

"Lavender did it." She rolled her eyes. "Like I said, where the hell is Lavender Brown when you need her?"

"I dunno," Ron shrugged. "I've never really needed her, so I wouldn't know where to find her."

Hermione sent him a short but rather contemptuous glare before yanking at her hair once again. "Eurgh!!!"

"You're going to pull your hair out," Harry said simply before shaking his head. "Just leave it, Hermione. It looks fine."

"Hold this," she instructed him, completely ignoring his comment. She handed him a hair brush and reached for a clip, which she deftly placed in her mouth as she used her hands to pull half of her hair off of her neck. She twisted it into a tight knot and then used the clip to hold it into place. Little pieces stuck out all over her head, but she smiled despite herself. It was different, and she liked it. She reached for another tiny clip and started pinning up some of loose pieces until she had half of her hair up and secured with pieces protruding out in different places and the rest of her hair down and straight. She turned to the boys after looking at herself for a long moment. "How's this?"

"Magnificent," Harry answered with a slight roll of the eyes. "It's fine, Hermione."

Hermione frowned at him and turned to Ron. Raising her eyebrows in question, she awaited his opinion.

"It looks good, Hermione," he said honestly. "You've never worn it like that before. It's really nice."

She hesitated for a moment before finally smiling a little and nodding. She glanced once more in the mirror before addressing the other two again. "You two better get changed. People will be here soon, and where's Gia?"

"I'm gonna go get her," Harry answered. "After I get dressed."

"Then go," she said as she motioned toward the door. "I have to change, too."

The boys left to go change into the suits that they'd picked out the day before in London. Discarding her own clothes, Hermione reached for her bathrobe and wrapped it around her before turning to her closet where the dress was hanging, still covered in the bag they'd given her at the store. She pulled it out and smiled. It really was beautiful. It was spaghetti strapped and silky with a shimmery over lay of a slightly darker red than the material of the actual dress. She'd found some strappy heels that matched the color perfectly, and her only fear was that she would trip and fall in them. They definitely weren't like any other shoes she'd ever worn; they were much higher, and the heel was so thin she wasn't sure she would even be able to walk in them. But they were simply too cute to pass up.

She sighed softly as she had this thought.

She really was turning into Lavender and Parvati.

Shaking her head to herself, she sat down at her vanity and opened the lid to reveal the makeup that her mother had bought for her the summer before. She'd taken some of it to Hogwarts with her, but the majority still lay exactly where she'd left it. Glancing into the mirror, she wondered briefly why she was making such an effort for this party, but she shrugged the thought away and reached for the foundation. Luckily, she was naturally quite brown, so the tone she'd bought during the summer still matched in the middle of winter. She applied it, careful not to add too much in any one place and to make sure that it was all blended in. When she was satisfied with the base coat, she studied the tray of different eye colors. Settling on a shimmery silver color, she gently brushed some onto her eyelids before opening them and smiling. Still grinning, she pulled out a tube of black mascara and raised the wand to her lashes, coating them, separating them, lengthening them, and curling them all in one swipe. It was almost like magic. Reaching for a tube of lipstick, she hesitated. The color was a dark red that matched the dress perfectly, but was it too much? She tested it out and saw that it was a bit much, but then she remembered a trick that Parvati always used. She placed the lid back on the tube and grabbed a tube of clear lip gloss. After applying it over the color, she saw that it did, in fact, make the color appear less bolder while giving her lips a shiny overcoat.

Next, she glanced at her fingernails and toenails which she'd painted a deep scarlet color the night before. She'd felt a little silly doing it because it made her feel like too much of a girly girl, but now she appreciated it. It matched the décor perfectly.

Another knock on her door made her jump again. "Who is it?" she called, preparing to curse the boys out for disturbing her again.

"It's Mum," came the answer.

Hermione got up and let her in, standing behind the door while her mother entered. Mrs. Granger was dressed in a long sleeved black dress, and her hair was done up in a knot at the back of her head. She was a very beautiful woman, and when Hermione was younger, she'd often wondered how she turned out so ugly when she had such a beautiful mother. But as she looked at her then, she noticed for the first time the similarities that she and her mother shared. The brown hair was one, though Mrs. Granger's had always been straight and smooth, never bushy and curly and knotty as Hermione's naturally was. Their eyes were the same, both the exact same color as their hair and framed by thick black lashes. They were both rather petite, but Mrs. Granger had a very nice womanly figure, which Hermione had apparently not inherited. She had filled out a bit, but she was still basically skinny and, for the most part, quite flat in places that many other girls had long since developed.

"Wow, Mum," she said with a smile as she shut the door behind them. "You look amazing."

"And look at you," her mother said quietly.

"Does my hair look okay?" she asked self-consciously. "I asked the boys, but, you know... They're boys."

Her mother smiled. "It looks beautiful. I was just coming to see if you needed any help, but it looks like you've got everything under control."

Hermione nodded a bit and turned toward the dress, which was now draped across her bed. "Could you help me with my dress? The zipper sticks."

Nodding, Mrs. Granger watched as Hermione lifted the dress up and handed it to her. She glanced down at it. "Wow," she said admirably. "How much did this cost?"

Hermione turned a bit red and shrugged. "Um... I don't really remember..."

"You've never been a good liar," her mother commented lazily as she turned the tag over. "Hermione!" She looked up at her daughter in shock.

Hermione bit down on her lower lip. "It was the only thing I could find..."

Her mother gave her a Look.

"Okay, but it was so pretty, Mum!" She looked up desperately. "I'll pay for some it..."

Her mother sighed and shook her head. "No... Just don't tell your father how much it cost."

Hermione smiled softly. "Thank you."

Shaking her head again, Mrs. Granger undid the safety pin, which was holding the tag in place, and removed it. Hermione dropped the bathrobe and let her mother help her into the dress. She turned around and waited as her mother carefully worked the zipper past the sticking point. When she was finally in the dress, she turned to the mirror and glanced at herself. Her mother grinned and reached for the box containing the shoes. She pulled them out and shook her head.

"Make sure you don't fall in these things," she said as she motioned for Hermione to sit on the bed. Hermione did as she was told and waited as her mother pulled the desk chair up and placed the heels on her feet, strapping them up and holding her hands out to her daughter as she pulled her into a standing position. When Hermione was on her feet, she walked to the mirror and peered in at herself curiously.

"You look so beautiful," her mother commented quietly from behind her.

Hermione bit down on her lower lip nervously. "You have to say that because you're my mother."

"I don't have to do anything," Mrs. Granger answered haughtily. "That's the good thing about being the mother."

Hermione tried to smile, but it was hard. Something was toying with her mind, and she couldn't think of anything else. Sighing, she turned to her mother and looked at her carefully. "Mum, can I ask you a question?"

Her mother smiled and nodded. "You can ask me anything, Sweetheart."

Hermione nodded, hesitating for a long moment. Feeling her cheeks heat up a bit, she finally managed the question. "How do you know... how do you know if a boy likes you?"

It was obvious that Mrs. Granger was trying very hard to bite down the smile, which was threatening to protrude from her lips. Succeeding somewhat, she looked at her daughter and asked a very serious, one-worded question. "Ron?"

Hermione's initial reaction was to deny this and state that she was asking the question hypothetically. However, her mother had been right when she'd said she was a horrible liar. And plus, she'd been dying to tell someone but hadn't had the opportunity. Sighing, she nodded a little. "Yeah."

"So, you do fancy him," her mother stated, grinning.

Hermione turned a little red but answered honestly. "It's more than just fancying him, Mum... I like him so much- it's crazy."

Smiling fondly, her mother sat down on the bed and motioned for Hermione to join her. Hermione reluctantly did so and waited as her mother seemed to be gathering her thoughts. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, her mother turned to her and said, "Do you think he likes you back?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. I do." She frowned. "But he just want do anything about it."

Mrs. Granger raised a single eyebrow. "He doesn't need to do anything about it." She emphasized the word 'do.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, Mum. I'm fifteen years old."

Sighing, her mother nodded carefully. "I know..." she said wistfully. "Trust me, I know."

Hermione bit down on her lower lip again and ducked her head a bit. "I don't think he'll do anything about it, but I really want him to..." She was speaking quietly.

"Is this the same way you felt about Viktor?"

Hermione looked up, shaking her head. "I didn't even like Viktor," she admitted softly. "I thought I did, but now I think I was just flattered that someone actually liked me." Her mother nodded knowingly and waited for Hermione to continue. "But I just never felt like this around him. It's so weird. I think the only reason I even went to that stupid ball with him in the first place was because Harry and Ron were being total jerks. Going on and on about how they would only go with a pretty girl even if she was completely awful." Hermione scowled slightly at the memory.

"Well, you are pretty," her mother pointed out gently.

Hermione just looked up doubtfully. "Mum, I haven't always looked like this, remember?"

Mrs. Granger simply looked on curiously, not saying anything else.

"And then Ron did ask me but only because he'd already been turned down by his first choice and he didn't really have any other options."

"But you were already going with Viktor?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. And now I don't know if he'd like me if I still looked the way I used to."

"Do you really think he's that shallow?"

Hermione frowned and reluctantly shook her head. "No... But it still hurt my feelings when he acted like that. Like I wasn't good enough for first choice or something."

Mrs. Granger sighed softly. "Honey, that's just boys for you. They can be completely thick until something makes them snap into reality."

Hermione gave her own soft sigh. "I just want to make sure that it's right, you know? Before anything happens, I just want to know that it's the right thing for us."

"You have plenty of time to find the right thing," her mother advised seriously. "Hermione, you're only fifteen."

"I know." Hermione shook her head as if she didn't know how to explain it. "But sometimes I feel so much older than that. I mean, we- Harry, Ron, and I- have been through so much. Way more than most normal fifteen year olds."

"That's because you're not normal fifteen year olds," her mother answered amusedly.

Hermione laughed despite herself. "Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I were just normal."

"You might be best friends with Gia Martin," her mother teased good- naturedly.

Hermione laughed again. "Gia's not as bad as she used to be. I guess she's grown up a lot."

"Well, she's been through a lot, too," her mother pointed out.

Hermione was confused for a moment before she caught onto what her mother meant. "I forgot all about that..." she said quietly. When Jane Martin had died, they'd only been in their first year of primary school. It was around the time of her mother's death that Gia had turned into a sort of bully, but Hermione hadn't pieced that together when they were younger. And over the years, she'd simply forgotten all about it. Now, everything seemed to click into place. "I wonder if Harry knows about that..."

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "They have more in common than you thought, huh?"

Hermione nodded. "I guess it's good in a way. I mean, it's still weird because it's Harry and it's this girl I grew up with who I always disliked greatly... But I guess they both need someone who understands."

"Fate works in mysterious ways."

"You know what's so weird about Ron and me, though?" she asked, looking back up. "I've never met anyone in my entire life who can make me as angry as he can. We fight all the time- I mean all the time."

"Opposites attract..."

"But he's also the only person in the world who would burp up slugs for me..." Hermione murmured to herself.

"I almost forgot!" her mother spoke up, obviously not hearing Hermione's earlier comment. "Ron's mother sent an owl this morning. She wants all of you over there tomorrow for Christmas lunch."

"You keep forgetting everything."

Her mother rolled her eyes. "I know. But anyway, I meant to tell you all this morning, but it slipped my mind."

"So, we get to go to the Burrow tomorrow?" Her mother nodded with a smile, obviously still a bit amused at the fact that the Weasley house was so commonly referred to as 'The Burrow.' Hermione grinned. "I have to tell Ron."

"You need to tell Ron a lot of things," Mrs. Granger said quite pointedly.

Hermione pursed her lips stubbornly. "He should be the one to do the telling."

Her mother smirked and shook her head as she stood up. "This is a modern world, Hermione. Be your own woman."

Hermione looked down, thinking everything over. Maybe she would take things into her own hands.

Mrs. Granger turned to leave. "I have guests arriving shortly. I'll see you downstairs."

"Mum," Hermione spoke up before her mother could leave. Mrs. Granger turned and looked at her in question. Hermione stood up and smiled softly. "Thanks..."

Mrs. Granger smiled back and crossed the room once more to where her only child was standing. "You can always ask me anything, you know?"

Hermione nodded.

Still smiling, Mrs. Granger reached out and carefully smoothed the sides of her daughter's hair before leaning over and kissing her forehead gently. "I'll see you later."

When her mother left, Hermione turned back to the mirror and studied herself for a long, long moment. She studied her hair and her make-up and her outfit. And she had one wonderful thought.

Red was a beautiful color, and it complimented her perfectly...

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Well? Just a little side-shot here. Nothing really happened, but I thought a woman to woman talk would be in order for everything that Hermione's going through right now.

The next chapter will be the party!

Please leave feedback!!!

PS- Go see 8 Mile! Eminem is SOOOOOO freaking hot!!!!