THE MANOR
Disclaimer: None of this is mine, and you know that … so why get fussed?
Chapter 8 – Pre-Christmas Buzz
Hermione tacked up one last poster on the walls of Hogwarts advertising the details of the Christmas Ball, to be held on Christmas Day. The poster warned those who came that they wouldn't be permitted without a costume of some sort. It also informed students that the entry fee had been raised from last year (a fact that had caused some irritation among the more tight-fisted), because the Prefects had decided it would be a good idea to also raise some extra funds to donate to the children's section of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies.
When Dumbledore had finally informed the school of the Ball yesterday, there had been, as expected, reactions of happiness, anticipation and excitement. Ron had groaned, turned red, and glanced over at Hermione all in quick succession, a fact that caused Hermione to smile just a little, remembering last year's Yule Ball.
Harry's voice spoke softly into Hermione's ear while others chattered excitedly. 'It's for our protection,' he said quietly. He had taken to confiding more in Hermione ever since that night when he had told Hermione of his nightmarish dreams, a fact that Hermione appreciated greatly.
'What?' Hermione asked, looking at him in surprise.
'The Ball. Professor Dumbledore wanted to keep as many of us at Hogwarts over the Christmas, so that we won't be vulnerable to Voldemort,' Harry explained in an undertone. 'It was actually Remus' idea,' Harry added. 'He raised the idea in one of the earlier Order meetings.'
Hermione nodded. Of course, she should have realised that. The fact that the Ball was held on Christmas Day in the middle of the holidays should have told her that. Last year, the Yule Ball and Triwizard Tournament had meant that most students had remained at Hogwarts. This Christmas Ball should do the same, for most would hate to miss it.
Now, though, the Prefects were very busy with organisational duties on top of their school work and normal prefect duties. Enlisting the aid of non-Prefect Dean Thomas, they had managed to come up with several artistic posters, which Hermione, using some trickly little charms, managed to highlight using a few charms, so that words would flash brightly, or some Christmas songs would sound from the poster. With a simple replication spell, several copies were made that were put up about the school.
All the Prefects were assigned aspects of the Ball to organise. Hermione had been put in charge of the financial aspect of the ball, and as the money for tickets came in, she had to arrange for all the money to be sent to the band, decorators etc., and also the money to be put aside to send to St Mungo's. The Prefects also decided to provide food for themselves, and give the House Elves a rest. That particular decision was mostly brought about at Hermione's insistence.
In addition to the Costume Ball though, which was only available for fourth years and above, there was a Muggle-themed Christmas Dance for the younger students which ended at ten o'clock, to be held in a conveniently large room which Hermione had never known about, somewhere in the big castle. This would hopefully keep younger students at school.
'Okay, prefects,' Head Boy Cameron Eddy looked at them from a roster sheet two weeks before the Ball was to take place during one of their Prefect meetings. He was a tall Slytherin with light golden-brown hair, who was surprisingly decent. Hermione, after meeting the Slytherin prefects, realised that not every witch and wizard from Slytherin was Dark and evil. Yes, those who were, came only from Slytherin, and not the other Houses, but many were just normal witches and wizards. After all, Snape wasn't a Dark wizard. He was quite the opposite. 'We have here the roster times for you people.'
The prefects groaned good-naturedly in unison, slouched about as they were in the Prefect's Common Room – a room that had been set aside for them to have their meetings in and complete with comfortable sofas, cushions and chairs to sit in, and, very conveniently, a magical drinks dispenser that allowed them to sip on hot cups of coffee or cocoa while meeting. The fireplace crackled warmly, and the small Christmas tree a couple of Hufflepuff Prefects had put up shone merrily, putting all the Prefects into pleasant moods.
'Each of you have been assigned to help set up either the Costume Ball or the Christmas Dance,' Frances Bennings, the Head Girl instructed. She was a Ravenclaw, with dark brown hair and eyes. 'Then, during the dance, you will each have to take out one hour to supervise the Christmas Dance. You'll be there for the end of the Costume Ball though, since the Christmas Dance does finish earlier, so don't worry about missing that last slow dance or something.'
'What about cleaning up?' a Hufflepuff prefect asked. Trust a Hufflepuff to ask that.
'Unfortunately,' Cameron made a face, 'we're not allowed to leave until we've cleaned up the Costume Ball. The Christmas Dance can wait, since that room isn't usually used, but the Great Hall is needed for breakfast the day after.'
'If we can get up,' another Prefect muttered. They laughed.
'We'll clean up the Christmas Dance on Boxing Day in the afternoon, and after that, it's celebrations at the Three Broomsticks for us!' Frances said, grinning. 'We've put in enough work!' There was a general cheer at that.
'So, here's the roster,' Frances began reading from the list Cameron held.
Hermione nodded and wrote down her duties so as not to forget them. She was to help set up the food for the Christmas Dance, and during the Costume Ball, spend the third hour keeping an eye out at the Dance, nothing too worrying, and began looking forward to the Costume Ball very much.
Winter approached in full force, and snow drifted lazily over the school, blanketing Hogwarts snowily white. Classes were nearly at an end, they finished a week before Christmas, and the teachers were getting a little slacker with the onset of the holiday spirit, although lessons still continued doggedly. Bill had left Hogwarts, and had been replaced with Alastor Moody, but not before managing to spread several rumours about the nature of his relationship with a certain assistant, who had long, silvery-blond hair. The rumours had resulted in many first years sneaking gleefully around the corridors in an attempt to catch the oldest Weasley sibling alone with Fleur Delacour.
During this pre-holiday season, Hermione's favourite and most interesting class had to be Care of Magical Creatures. The freezing cold students had assembled at Hagrid's hut, teeth chattering and all longing to be back inside their warm common rooms, when Hagrid had come out of his hut, and instructed them to build a huge bonfire crawling with salamanders.
'Build it up high,' Hagrid roared, and the class threw on the huge logs of wood. It was hot, and the salamanders perched on the crumbling wood, happily basking in the fire. The students gladly warmed their gloved fingers at the fire, and chattered to each other, faces aglow with the red gold flames, while they watched the scampering salamanders.
'They're cute,' Hermione observed to Draco, who was standing next to her.
Draco nodded, smiling a little. Then, his forehead furrowed slightly in concentration and the bonfire flickering and dancing in his normally cold grey eyes, he reached forward to pick up one of the salamanders. What made Hermione gasp though, was the fact that he had reached into the fire to pick up the magical creature.
'The fire's hot,' she whispered to Draco frantically. He hadn't cast any flame-freezing spells, or anything, but had just stuck his hand into the fire. His hand, Hermione remembered, had glowed just slightly when he put it in and contacted the salamander.
Draco looked at the salamander in his completely healthy hand bemusedly. 'It is, rather, isn't it.'
Hermione reached forward a finger to touch the salamander tentatively, and then jerked her finger back rapidly. 'That thing's burning hot!' she exclaimed, face flushed.
Draco half-smirked. 'Badger says sorry,' he said, voice saintly.
'Tell Badger he'd better be,' Hermione answered back, annoyed, before asking curiously. 'Badger? What sort of a name is that?'
'He's always wanted to be a badger, apparently,' Draco commented, one hand stroking the salamander. 'So he took on the name. He's very proud of it,' he added, 'so don't insult him. He thinks it's quite original too. Most of his relatives are named after stars and constellations. His father's called Sagittarius, his mother is Andromeda, and his uncle's Dipper.'
Hermione snorted with laughter at this, then stopped abruptly, as she saw Hagrid stomping in their direction to check the notes they were supposed to be writing on the salamanders. 'Er, Malfoy, you'd better put Badger back,' she muttered to Draco.
Draco sighed. 'Good bye,' he said, patting that incandescently hot skin in farewell, and dropped Badger back into the bonfire just as Hagrid arrived.
That night, Hermione was sitting in the noisy and boisterous Common Room, busily working on some Arithmancy assignments, when Ginny bounced up and sat down next to her.
'What is it, Ginny?' Hermione asked, not looking up, busily completing some writing about Animagi for Transfiguration. Their class was to be tested on Animagi after the Christmas break, and Hermione hoped fervently she would be one of those who had a natural ability at Transfiguration.
'I think somebody's going to get asked to go to the Costume Ball,' Ginny said, with a sing-song voice, her face holding a slightly secretive smile.
'Who?' Hermione asked absently as she carefully blotted the paragraph she had written so that the ink would not run.
Ginny gave her a surprised look. 'You don't know?'
Hermione glanced up at her quizzically. 'Am I supposed to?'
'Oh. I don't know,' Ginny changed her conversation path. 'Are you taking anyone?'
A look of startlement crossed Hermione's face. 'I hadn't thought about that bit of the Ball yet,' she admitted. She had been a bit wrapped up in the organisational aspect of the Costume Ball.
'That much,' Ginny shook her head, 'is obvious.'
'Who are you taking?' Hermione asked the red-head, even as she pondered the subject of a date for herself.
'Colin asked me this morning,' Ginny said, voice neutral as she named one of her second year classmates.
'You've got a date already?' Hermione asked, sounding astonished.
'There are only two weeks until the Ball,' Ginny reminded.
'Oh dear,' Hermione said in a worried tone.
'In fact,' Ginny said, her face going slightly red, 'Harry got a date faster than you this year. He's taking Lisa Turpin, you know, in Ravenclaw. She asked, and he had no objections.' Her speech grew faster as she went, hurrying into a tumble.
'What?' Hermione asked, dismayed.
'Harry's going with Lisa,' Ginny repeated. She was staring at her feet now, her face flaming red.
'Who am I going to go with?' Hermione wrung her hands. The situation was turning serious.
'You were planning to go with Harry?' Ginny looked up abruptly. Her normally gentle brown eyes were piercingly direct as they stared at Hermione.
Hermione shook her head vigorously. 'No! Of course not!' she denied, unable to hide the small flush that came to her face. Of course she wasn't planning to take Harry. And why would she want to anyway? Feeling she had been silent too long, she spoke again. 'But there are only two weeks left! I'm sure everyone has already been sorted out and I'm the only one who's dateless.'
It sounded valid, and the comfortably smug smile reappeared on Ginny's face. 'Ron doesn't have a date yet,' she said innocently. 'And he's currently standing in front of the Fat Lady screwing up the courage to ask a certain somebody who's sitting in front of me to the Ball.'
Hermione smiled widely. 'You really think he'll ask me?' she asked Ginny.
Ginny nodded, grinning back.
At that moment, Harry and Ron walked into the Common Room. Ginny left discreetly, and went to the other side of the Common Room to talk with her fellow fourth-year Gryffindor friends.
'Hermione,' Harry said, smiling to see her, while Ron went a little green. Harry stopped then, mid-pace. 'Er, hang on,' he said. 'I-I've just remembered. I've left my, er, book in the library. Have to go get it,' he grinned, gave Ron an encouraging smile, and dashed back out of the common room.
Hermione watched Harry go, a small smile on her face. Harry was a terrible liar. He was just too … honest, especially to his friends. He couldn't keep the fact that he was lying from his face. Even as her eyes followed Harry, she realised that Ron was watching her, slightly apprehensively, and turned back to him, a questioning look in her eyes.
'Er, Hermione,' Ron began apprehensively.
Hermione waited patiently as Ron swallowed more air.
'Do you, I mean, d'you want to g-go to the ball with, with me?' Ron asked. His voice was very nervous, and sounded ready to break, and although Hermione found the situation rather amusing, thought it would be better not to laugh and completely destroy any confidence Ron had mustered up.
She put him out of his misery. 'I'd be glad to, Ron,' she said sincerely.
Ron breathed a rather obvious sigh of relief, and sank into the sofa next to her. 'Thank goodness.' The task over, he looked completely relaxed, with the colour returning to his face.
'Just tell me one thing, though,' Hermione began teasingly. 'Who did you ask first before you asked me?'
Ron looked alarmed, his face going red, and then smiled broadly, realising she was having him on. 'About the whole school, Hermione,' he said, grinning. 'The whole bloody school. You were the last resort, of course.'
They both laughed, remembering last year's Yule Ball, as Harry re-entered the Common Room. A quick glance reassured him that things were fine, and face beaming, he sat down with his two friend. 'All set?' he enquired.
They nodded, grinning. 'Right, then, if you don't mind, Ron, we'd better look into our Quidditch strategies,' Harry said pointedly, in a voice that said very clearly "back to business."
Hermione rolled her eyes. Quidditch!
The moment the two boys moved from Hermione, Ginny darted over swiftly, and stood before the fifth-year. 'Unless I'm greatly mistaken, I believe a certain, sometimes thick-headed, boy just asked you to the Costume Ball,' she said extravagantly.
Hermione smiled, and nodded.
'And you accepted the offer,' Ginny continued, eyes sparkling.
Hermione nodded yet again.
Ginny gave up her grandiose pose, and sat down. 'What did he say?' she asked eagerly.
' "Hermione, do you want to go to the ball with me?" ' Hermione quoted Ron, editorially removing the stuttering and hesitations that had accompanied Ron's speech. 'He was really nervous,' she added, smiling.
Ginny shook her head disapprovingly. 'I'm going to have to have a talk with Ron about that,' she said. 'He could be a bit more romantic.'
'Honestly, we're only going to the Ball together,' Hermione said fairly. 'It's not like he's asking me to marry him.'
'Still …' Ginny screwed up her face in dissatisfaction.
'I was fine with it,' Hermione added.
Ginny continued her post-mortem on the "asking." 'So he asked you, and you said–?' she prompted.
' "I'd be glad to," ' Hermione quoted herself this time.
Ginny smiled. 'Oh, that's so sweet,' she cooed.
Hermione looked at her dubiously. 'Why are you so interested in this?'
Ginny gave her an incredulous look, and seeing Hermione's complete cluelessness, took pain to explain. 'Well, firstly, whenever anyone gets asked out, I just have to find out!' Ginny squealed, sounding remarkably like Lavender or Parvati. 'And your case is especially special. Ron is my brother, Hermione.'
Hermione raised her brow. 'And?'
'And I'm concerned for his welfare. He obviously likes you, and I think you do too – you know, you argue all the time, which is a sign of repressed sexual tension,' the smaller girl giggled wickedly, anticipating Hermione's outburst.
'What?' Hermione demanded, sitting up straight.
'You heard me,' Ginny said, shrugging nonchalantly, and imitating Hermione's previously cool pose.
'You've been reading too much Teen Witch Weekly,' Hermione said, frowning. 'That stuff's nonsense. Besides, Ron and I haven't been picking many fights this year.'
'That's because you've resolved your differences,' Ginny said, smiling beatifically.
Hermione shook her head, letting the girl fantasise as she wished.
'So, Hermione. What are you going to go as?' Ginny asked pensively.
Thus started the complete dilemma about a costume, for it was a Costume Ball. Ginny too had absolutely no idea, wanting something original, and Hermione quickly realised she had no idea what she wanted to dress up as.
A week later, and with a week to go until the Ball, the two girls were still stuck for an idea, despite the hours spent brainstorming during the holidays.
'Nooooo,' Ginny moaned as she slumped onto the couch next to Hermione. 'I still have no idea what to go as!'
'All I know for certain is that I'm not going as a princess,' Hermione said sourly, looking up from a book on Animagi.
'Or a Goddess, or a fairy,' Ginny added. 'Can you believe that every girl in my dormitory is either going as one of those aforementioned?'
'And mine,' Hermione grimaced. 'Lavender and Parvati are still trying to come up with tiaras that look like they have real diamonds. They even dared to ask me for help,' she huffed.
It was true. Everyone Hermione had overheard in her Common Room or dormitory discussing the Costume Ball was going as a princess. Not too bad. But many of the girls were just going to wear contemporary dress-robes, not actual Princess gowns, or fairy costumes (the fairies wore dress-robes and added wings). It was disgusting … didn't they understand what costume meant? Disappointed, Hermione labelled this dilemma in her mind as "Princess-syndrome."
'Aren't they worried that they'll all look like clones?' Ginny demanded. 'Is there not one spark of originality or individuality in this place?' she added dramatically.
'Obviously not,' Hermione said dryly, and sighed. 'Help me. I need a costume.'
'I do too,' Ginny said plaintively, and they continued to wrack their brains for ideas the whole entire afternoon, but none of the ideas they came up with seemed good or possible.
That night, Hermione went down to Hagrid's hut to visit Pegasus. Draco had told her he was going to fly Pegasus that night, and Hermione had decided she would like to join him. Flying on Pegasus was exhilaratingly fun, even though it was a tad bit cold.
'Hermione,' Hagrid noticed her coming down from where he sat, having a cup of tea in his home. 'Goin' flyin' again with Malfoy?'
He knew about her flying expeditions. Hermione had flown Pegasus several times since the first incident, which Hagrid had witnessed. After a couple of times, Draco asked Hagrid formally for permission to ride the winged horses, an incident Hermione recalled well.
'How do yer do it?' Hagrid had asked, with gruff curiosity, trying not to look too interested as he slopped water into large bowls for the resident kneazles to drink.
Draco eyed Hagrid warily. 'It's a knack I have,' he said finally, unwilling to disclose information. He had been unwilling to even ask Hagrid for permission, but Hermione had nagged him until he finally did, "just to get her to shut up about it."
Hagrid shrugged his massive shoulders. 'Go ahead. It'd do them good to stretch their wings.'
Draco and Hermione had flown the other three horses as well, but Hermione liked Pegasus best. Pegasus was much smoother in flight, more beautiful, much more fun to ride. Now, mounted on Pegasus with Draco and swooping through the crispy night air, Hermione began talking, and with nothing else to talk about, began discussing her week-long problem.
'Have you figured out your costume for the Ball?' she asked Draco as a way to begin.
Draco nodded. 'Yes,' he said shortly while directing Pegasus towards the Forbidden Forrest.
'Drats,' Hermione said. Ginny and herself looked like the only ones still floundering for ideas. 'I'm still having trouble with a costume idea,' she added.
'What have you tried as sources of inspiration?' he asked her, as he controlled Pegasus from doing cartwheels in the air.
'Nothing really,' Hermione admitted, twisting a bit of Pegasus' shining white mane in her fingers. 'I'm starting to wish that we hadn't agreed on a Costume Ball,' she groaned. 'Why did we have to try and be creative?'
'I'll be sure to tell Cameron and Frances,' Draco said lightly. The costume idea had been the Headboy and Headgirl's, and the Prefects had enthusiastically agreed to their plan.
They flew on for a moment in silence, eyes watching the glistening, silvery countryside. 'Who are you going with?' Draco asked presently.
'Huh? Who I'm going with? Ron,' Hermione answered absently as she gazed at the small pinpricks of starlight that had begun to appear in the sky.
'Oh.'
They flew for a few more minutes in silence. 'What about literature?' he suggested.
'What?' Hermione asked, surprised, jolted out of her star-gazing.
'Is there some book or play with a character you could dress up as?' he asked her.
Hermione sat quietly, thinking, then smiled. 'That's a good idea. I'll look into it. Maybe some Shakespeare? Or Jane Austen?' she began pondering out loud.
Draco, meanwhile, grinned at her, a trifle arrogantly. 'I always have good ideas.'
'I'm not so sure about that,' Hermione teased.
He pretended to look offended. 'Isn't flying Pegasus a good idea?' he challenged.
'The only one you've ever had,' she said, grinning at him mischievously.
Draco sniffed. 'I'll have you know that we of the wizarding blood always have good ideas,' he said pompously. 'Unlike muggles,' he added under his breath.
Hermione frowned at the extra comment, wishing he hadn't said it. She had thought Draco's prejudiced attitude might have changed, but it didn't seem so, not with that derogatory comment towards Muggles. The rest of the flight continued in silence, and they landed and stabled Pegasus again speaking little, before they began walking back to the castle.
Hermione walked along, snow crunching under her feet. Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch … 'do you ever get bothered by the fact that I'm Muggleborn?' she said abruptly.
Draco blinked, the suddenness of the question surprising him, before he frowned, his grey eyes darkening with shadow. 'I'm trying not to think about it.'
Hermione clucked exasperatedly, and forcibly restrained herself from speaking. Crunch, crunch, crunch … 'I can't believe you, Draco,' she burst out. She couldn't help it. 'You're one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. You understand difficult concepts quickly. You get good marks, you've read widely. But you still get prejudiced about something like that. And I'm a Muggle-born,' Hermione's voice rose. She was getting worked up. 'Am I any less magical than a pureblood?' she demanded. 'Am I worse?' She stopped in the middle of her stride.
'I don't hold anything against you,' Draco said hastily, stopping too and facing her.
'Then what about my family? They're all Muggles,' Hermione demanded. He said nothing, but his face twisted, and Hermione could see the repulsion he felt towards her Muggle parents in his face.
She stared at him fiercely. 'You're a bigoted idiot, just like your father,' Hermione said, voice disgusted.
Draco's eyes flashed. 'You don't understand, Granger,' he retorted, his use of her last name hurting Hermione to the core. 'I've been trained to believe what I believe for fifteen years. I think that ingrains certain things in you pretty deep, don't you? I have been listening to my father, the man I respected for fifteen years, about this subject almost non-stop. I have been under his influence for a long time – I think talking to you was a big step. I can't change my beliefs just like that,' he snapped his fingers, grey eyes cold.
Hermione looked at him, disappointed. 'I thought you were better than that,' she said, sadly, brown eyes reproachful. They walked the last remaining steps to the Entrance Hall, and then left him in silence, making her way back to the Gryffindor Tower.
After fuming for a few moments, in which she sat on a couch, face hard, eyes stinging, she began to think of her earlier conversation with Draco. His words had given her food for thought. Literature, Draco had said. She'd give him literature.
Hermione had intended to get a Christmas gift for Draco that Christmas, but had had difficulty deciding on something. Now, a plan for something she felt was decidedly suitable began to formulate in her mind as she sat, lost in thought, as the common room bustled around her noisily.
'Hermione! Have you thought of a costume yet?' Ginny had burst into the common room and, seeing the older girl, came up to her.
Hermione blinked, then half-nodded. 'I've been thinking of using something from a book or something.'
'A book?' Ginny queried doubtfully. She shrugged. 'Well, I've decided on my costume,' she said, grinning proudly.
'Oh?'
'You're addressing the Pirate Queen of the High Oceans,' Ginny said grandly, pretending to wave a quill she picked up from a nearby table in her hand like a cutlass, and waved it about, giggling a little.
'You're going as a pirate?' Hermione asked incredulously.
Ginny nodded, dropping the wind-blown and ruined quill back onto the table.
'This sudden decision wouldn't perchance have anything to do with Harry's statement that he was dressing up as a pirate, now, would it?' Hermione observed slyly.
Ginny flushed. 'Of course not,' she denied, and regained her calm with dignity. 'I was looking through some picture books in the library, and I thought it would be very interesting. Colourful. Has a bang to it.'
Hermione nodded. Ginny's idea wasn't bad, but she couldn't resist teasing the red-head.
'I still need a costume though. I was thinking of visiting Hogsmeade tomorrow and doing some more Christmas shopping, and also browse around. I think they have a costume store there. You want to come along?'
Hermione agreed. After all, she still needed a costume, and maybe she could find her Christmas gift for Draco there.
Thanks for the reviews! I love reading them, and they're sooo encouraging (hint hint, look at button down the bottom).
Lady Prongs – I think they've given up on their revenge. I've told them to. But then again, Harry and Ron can be stubborn sometimes (roll eyes), especially regarding a certain blond Slytherin. Who knows what they'll do. :)
Elven Ice Angel – thank you! You like LotR too? I am a huge fan, but I'm not trying LotR fanfic yet. I know there's no way I could write Tolkien-style (it can be just a bit dry and boring) but I'm not sure how I'd write it yet. I am into Tolkien-accuracy though (although I love the rather inaccurate films), so I'm not too sure your fic would suit me. However, I'll read your fic the moment I can. Right now, I'm trying to finish this fic as fast as possible before the next Harry Potter book comes out.
Cinnamon – Malfoy is a brilliant character in the world of fanfic, isn't he. I wish JKR would do something about her currently one-dimensional Malfoy. (But that's probably an empty wish!)
