THE MANOR
Disclaimer: It's not mine. Now that things are all clear and sorted out, read on …
Chapter 9 – Merry Christmas
On the morning of December the twenty-fifth, at about half past six, Hermione Granger woke up. She couldn't sleep any more, filled with anticipation as she was about presents, and of course, the Costume Ball, which, now that she had her costume and date sorted out, was actually beginning to look enticing. Hermione grinned to see the reasonably sized pile of presents on her bed for her, and sat up yawning. The presents looked very promising, with packages, as she scanned them, from her family, relatives, and friends. Tearing her attention away from the presents, she glanced around the dormitory, and felt very snug and comfortable, with the festive sprigs of holly, tinsel and beads hung around the dormitory. The other girls lay asleep still, with their piles of presents waiting to be opened.
Tempted as she was to discover the contents of the colourfully wrapped packages, Hermione stood up, pulling on a warm robe, and walked quietly over to the window of her dormitory to look outside at the glistening, snow-covered landscape. The sun had just begun to rise. It was not yet visible, but rays of pure gold peeked over just slightly, with the promise of banishing cold darkness and night. The scene was so still and beautiful that Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of the natural splendour, when she saw a white-blond head atop a starkly contrasting black cloak trudging through the snow towards Hagrid's hut. Draco was evidently visiting Pegasus.
After looking at Draco contemplatively for a moment or two, a wry smile appeared on Hermione's face, and she came to a decision quickly. Although the fifth year girls' dormitory was warm, with the fire giving out wonderfully cosy flames of heat, she pulled off her pyjamas quickly, and changed swiftly into casual clothes. Then, she picked up a slender package that sat next to her bed, placed it under one arm, and slipped out of the dormitory, common room, and castle, into the cold wintry morning.
Even though her cloak was tied securely, and she wore very warm layers of clothing under it, Hermione still felt extremely cold as she made her way across the snow to the stables. The biting cold whipped her freezing face, and she burrowed her nose under her scarf in an attempt to keep warm her nose from falling off frozen.
Fortunately, it did not take long to reach the stables, and as she entered, she saw Draco leaning against the door to Pegasus' stall, watching her impassively. Once inside, she quickly closed the door against the cold, and removed her cloak. The stables were much warmer than outside, being spelled to provide warmth for the animals, a fact which made her feel very grateful as she rubbed warmth back into her cold limbs, even as she turned to face Draco.
'Malfoy,' Hermione said, guardedly. She hadn't spoken more than two words to Draco since their last flight on Pegasus, which had ended in arguments about blood purity.
'Granger.' His expression was unreadable, making Hermione uncomfortable. Draco had the unnerving ability to make his face as mask-like as can be, and he utilised that to its full extent, making both of them step awkwardly about each other on this Christmas day. 'I thought I'd find you here.'
Hermione hesitated, pondering his comment, then spoke. 'Merry Christmas.' She paused. 'You do believe in God and goodwill, don't you?' She found it difficult to believe that Lucius Malfoy could believe in God, when he was so cold heartedly cruel, although priests and bishops in the past had done various cruel deeds while still believing fanatically in God.
'Yeah,' Draco said slowly, his voice thawing just a bit. 'Merry Christmas.' A few months ago, before fifth year had started, Hermione would never have imagined in her wildest dreams that she would ever hear Draco Malfoy say that phrase of goodwill, let alone directed at her.
Hermione held out the slender package she had carried with her from her dormitory, almost like a token of peace. It was wrapped in cheerfully bright red Christmas paper, with a charming golden ribbon tied about it. Belatedly, she realised that they were Gryffindor colours, but hid her sudden grin. 'I thought you might like this,' she said shyly to him. She had no idea what his reaction to her gift would be.
Draco did not smile, but he did accept the present, holding it in his long-fingered hands, eyes on it curiously. There was an awkward silence. 'Unwrap it,' Hermione said impulsively, eager for his reaction.
He glanced up at her from his studied perusal of the gaily coloured gift, and did as she said, pulled away the red paper and golden ribbon to uncover her choice of present: a lovely hardback edition of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Hermione had managed to find in a bookstore that also stocked Muggle books in Hogsmeade. On the title page, she had written a short note:
Draco,
I hope you will enjoy reading this book. Please understand.
Merry Christmas,
Hermione Granger
'What is this?' he asked, grey eyes looking up at her, voice a little confused, but not seething with anger as she had feared he may have reacted, unsure as she was.
'It's a Muggle book, but, well, it's my favourite, after Emma. I thought you might like it. It would be an interesting read. My mother suggested it to me when I was younger,' Hermione said almost stumbling over her words with timidity, eyes ridiculously terrified of meeting his. 'Won't you read it?'
'I'll try,' Draco said, scrutinising the book as if perplexed as to how he should treat this Muggle object.
His lack of speech made Hermione continue talking nervously. 'If you don't understand the Muggle terms, you can check them up in the library. They have a good book there, All Things Muggle by Jeremy Harrington. But then again, this book's written by an American author, and set in America, so maybe The American History of–' Hermione rambled nervously.
'Hermione,' Draco stopped her rushing tumble of words. 'Thank you.' He sounded sincere, and he gave her a small smile, which warmed Hermione significantly. Then, he reached into a pocket, and pulled out a small package of his own. 'This is for you.'
Hermione took the package, delighted that he was actually voluntarily giving her a gift. The small packet was wrapped in silvery tissue paper, and after glancing at him briefly, she pulled away the covering to reveal a fairly long, delicate necklace made of a softly luminous silver. At the end of the thin chain, was a small thin ring of the same silvery metal, and twisted around this ring, were two very thin strands of twisted metal. One of the strands was a beautiful white-gold, the other, a darker, deep bronze colour. They intertwined around the ring, their metallic tendrils carefully placed.
'It's beautiful,' Hermione whispered, gazing at the necklace. It wasn't something of a conventional beauty, like a diamond or something, but in its own way, was enchanting. 'I didn't expect anything from you,' she said honestly.
'It's nothing,' Draco muttered, sounding embarrassed, but also pleased with the way Hermione obviously treasured the gift. Hermione, holding the band of silver with its thin twisting strands of metal carefully, felt differently. In some peculiar way, it was special. Maybe it was an expensive metal, but that was not the issue in this particular case, given the famous Malfoy family wealth. In some other way, it felt singularly unique, like it was the only one of its kind. She couldn't place what exactly, but it felt different …
'It's not cursed or anything, is it, Malfoy?' Hermione asked suspiciously, trying to figure out what was that vague feeling she had about the gift.
He gave a short laugh. 'O ye of little faith,' he said mockingly as he shook his head, a smile on his lips. 'It's not hexed, jinxed, cursed, charmed or spelled in any way or form that I am aware of.' Seeing the inkling of doubt had not yet receded from her face, he added, 'I should know. I made it, in a way.'
'You made it?' Hermione asked, sceptically.
He nodded, almost defensively. 'Yes,' he said coolly, one eyebrow raised.
'That's amazing,' Hermione said impressed, believing his words. Then, curiously, 'how?'
'Magic. How else?' Draco said carelessly, imprecisely, and without really answering Hermione's question.
Hermione pulled off her scarf, and put on the necklace, the little catch locking easily. She tucked it into her clothing, the ring hidden from view against her skin, and smiled at Draco. 'Thank you.'
'You're welcome.' Draco smiled back, and Hermione felt all was well again with the world. Well, until she found out his reaction after reading the book.
Hermione returned to her dormitory, and opened her other presents. They were lovely. Her parents had given her some books and clothes that she had wanted, and she received assorted trinkets and articles of clothing from various relatives and friends. Mrs Weasley had sent her some home-made fudge, and gloves she had knitted herself, while Ron had given her a book she had told him she had wanted, and then, in an obvious attempt to be romantic, added a bunch of sweet-smelling flowers as well. Harry had given her a pretty vase of some blue-green crystal which was not too big, and had been engraved at the base ('from your friend, Harry, 1995'). In the card, he mentioned she could start off the life of the vase by putting Ron's flowers into them, which she did at once. Although she liked the gifts very much, none of them seemed quite as precious as Draco's necklace, which she touched comfortingly.
Christmas Day was spent pleasantly enough. They ate a hearty breakfast after opening their presents, then headed outdoors. Since virtually the whole school was there, the grounds of Hogwarts was filled with students holding snowball fights and building snowmen.
Snowball fights continued escalating in scale, until there were finally four large snowforts for each of the Houses, with large-scale House battles. Eventually, those not fighting became busy fashioning not snowmen but sophisticated sculptures, with the aid of a bit of magic to hold up this bit, to make another part support itself, to get just the right shape, and all other ways in which magic could be helpful.
Hermione, after being hit by a too-enthusiastic first year student, decided not to join in the Snow Wars, as they had been dubbed unanimously by the Muggle students, and instead wandered along the sculptors, admiring, and laughing at, the exhibition of snow shapes. After failures from several of the students to make their creations stand, they joined forces for house against house. Dean directed the Gryffindor creation, which featured a wonderful, big sculpture of a proud lion. The Ravenclaws used all their cleverness to create a snow replica of Hogwarts, while the Hufflepuffs' attempts to create a snow tower failed miserably but caused much laughter. The Slytherins, using all their wit and cunning, managed to shape a surprisingly artistic and beautiful unicorn standing in the snow.
Colin Creevey took snaps of all the creations, and gave copies to each house to stick up in their common rooms.
Lunch was delicious, but not a big affair, as everybody was too busy getting excited about the Costume Ball, or for the younger kids, the Christmas Dance. After lunch, the students were shooed out of the Great Hall, and some of the prefects began their work decorating and preparing the venue for the Costume Ball, while the other prefects went to the large room set aside for the Christmas Dance to prepare for that, according to their duties.
Hermione, working for the Christmas Dance, helped in organising the placement of all the Muggle food that had been ordered. Packets of chips and other assorted junk food, Muggle sweets and soft drinks were among the many items that were laid on the groaning tables for the first to third year students. Music was put on – Muggle music on a CD player that Dumbledore had enchanted to work without electricity, and big blow-up pictures of scenes from Muggle life had been plastered over the walls. The lighting was rather impressive too, looking surprisingly Muggle.
They finished by four, and the Prefects hurried away to their dorms, to ready themselves for the Costume Ball.
After showering to rid herself of sweat and grime (the Christmas Dance venue had been excessively dusty), Hermione changed into her costume, and twirled in front of a mirror in her dormitory, pleased with her reflection. She had taken Draco's suggestion, and searching through books and plays, found herself most intrigued by the tragic figure of the gypsy 'La Esmeralda', from Notre-Dame de Paris by Victor Hugo, when the gypsy girl first danced in the streets. With Ginny, she had scoured the costume store they had found in Hogsmeade, and had hired a perfect garment that followed the description of the translated book, with a "golden, unpleated bodice" and "billowing, brightly coloured dress" that left her shoulders bare.
Hermione had realised fairly early on that her complexion was not quite dark enough to pass off as a gypsy, and using a skin darkening spell, turned her skin a darker, golden brown shade, and her hair became black. It was still bushy, but with the darker colour, looked more like flying curls, as opposed to bushy brown hair that normally caught the light in exactly the wrong way to make it appear even fuzzier. She used a couple of cosmetic charms to boldly outline her features, and now admired her costume and appearance in the mirror. She smiled happily to see that she wasn't an elegantly got up princess (ie., a teenage girl in dress robes), was in a real costume, and brightly dressed, which would match the decorations for the hall.
Hermione had been quicker than some of the other girls. Lavender and Parvati kept on squealing about how their hair rollers weren't working properly, and how their cosmetic charms were going haywire. You would think, wouldn't you, that after all the time they spent on their appearance, they would have mastered those techniques by now, wouldn't you? Not so.
Hermione went to find Ginny, to escape the smell of burning hair and overdoses of perfume.
'You look perfect!' Ginny exclaimed upon seeing her friend. 'But you still need the goat!'
Hermione laughed along with Ginny. When she had mentioned to Ginny that the gypsy from Notre-Dame de Paris had had a little white goat, Djali, that had followed La Esmeralda and did little tricks, Ginny had been enchanted, and begged Hermione to find herself a goat and bring it with her to the Costume Ball. Hermione had rather firmly disagreed. Any goat she brought would start eating the decorations, and if bored with that, people's costumes.
Now, Hermione admired Ginny's costume, which she had, after all, helped in. It looked fantastic, and was also rented from the same costume store in Hogsmeade. Ginny's bright, red curls had been braided into two thick red plaits, and she wore a typical pirate's hat with skull-and-crossbones. She wore a dress, with a mass of petticoats and a red and white striped skirt. On her feet were flamboyant, heeled and buckled boots, and a fake cutlass and pistol hung from a large, clunky belt around her waist. Golden earrings decorated her ears, and, as a final touch, Ginny had made Hermione transfigure a glass bottle into a parrot that would sit obediently on her shoulder and squawk the night away. All in all, Ginny looked convincingly outlandish.
'Ahoy! Landlubbers!' Ginny tried to do what she imagined to be a pirate swagger, while the parrot squawking away at the same time and tried to imitate her. Hermione, meanwhile, tried to suppress a laugh.
The two girls went downstairs at the appropriate time, where they met up with the other Gryffindors. Harry was there, with Ron.
'Ginny! You look fantastic,' Harry said, seeing the red-head descending down the stairs. 'Are you a piratess?'
Ginny blushed, all her extravagant "Pirate Queen" confidence disappearing at the sight of the Boy-Who-Lived.
'She's a pirate queen,' Hermione supplied for the speechless Ginny, coming down from behind her. 'Does the word "piratess" even exist?'
The two boys stared at Hermione. 'You look so different,' Ron said, awed.
'You look beautiful,' Harry corrected his friend, also impressed. 'How did you do that to your hair and skin colour?'
Hermione shrugged her shoulders, feeling marginally bolder in her gypsy guise. 'It's a secret.' Inside, her stomach did a couple of flip flops, seeing the admiring looks Ron and Harry gave her.
'Shall we go?' Ron asked her. He was dressed as an American cowboy.
Hermione nodded gladly.
Harry met up with Ravenclaw Lisa Turpin, who was, surprises of surprises, a Princess, and the four went into the Great Hall. It had been transformed amazingly. Hermione knew what was supposed to happen, of course, since she had been contributing to the plans, but seeing it was so much better than the ideas she had in her head of what it would look like after her Prefect discussions.
The long House tables and benches had disappeared, and instead, there were several small wooden tables along the side with fingerfood. Across the top of the hall, brightly coloured streamers were hung in a profusion of colour under the starry sky, and vividly colourful Chinese lanterns bobbed about in the air, providing lights along with flaring torches that had been attached to the walls. The music from the popular wizarding band playing up the front was uplifting, and every so often, a mini firework would be set off, whizzing just above people's heads to explode in a sparkle of light, sprinkling colourful confetti. The atmosphere created was that of a carnival or fair, which Hermione personally felt suited the costume theme well.
Hermione looked at the students in the Hall, to see absolute hordes of Princesses, Fairies and beautiful Enchantresses. She had thought only Gryffindor girls had been afflicted with the Princess-Syndrome, but it seemed the disease was House-wide. You could count the fingers of one hand the number of girls who weren't princesses or fairies aside from herself and Ginny.
One girl, though, did look pretty funny, dressed as a satirical comment of the other costumes, in the guise of one of the ugly step-sisters of Cinderella. She wore a ghastly bright pink dress, with millions of ribbons, frills, ruffles, and petticoats. Around her neck were several fake clunky pieces of jewellery, and her face was outrageously made up with exaggeratedly distorted features, a large beauty spot, and overpowdered face. She wore a wig that was almost fluoro orange in colour, which also held a million ribbons and beads. She looked garishly awful, although Hermione strongly suspected the girl underneath all the makeup, wig, ribbons and petticoats was probably quite normal looking, if not pretty.
Other girls shied away from her, obviously intimidated by the almost frighteningly extreme costume.
The boys had more variety, although Hermione felt very strongly that dressing as a member of your favourite Quidditch team did not classify as a costume. She had dissuaded Ron from the notion herself. The Weasley twins made a fantastic appearance as Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, but Hermione had say that the most dramatic male costume had to go to the boy dressed as the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera. His hair was pure white and had been slicked back tightly – which was obviously enhanced in some way since there was nobody in the school who had white hair. Hermione would have remembered it if there were. He wore the trademark mask of the Phantom, and a big black cape swirled about him menacingly.
Some of the couples that came dressed together in a theme of sorts. One couple came from Ancient Rome – the boy wore a white bedsheet as a toga, while another couple looked very convincing as a couple from the Middle Ages. Cameron Eddy and Frances Bennings had come together (the Prefects had teased them a great deal when they had found out), and were dressed as a couple from a Jane Austen novel.
'Dancing's starting,' Ron noted to Hermione a few minutes after the Ball had started. The band had begun playing faster, louder numbers, and the Hogwarts students cheered as they began dancing to the music. It was lots of fun, even though Ron wasn't the best dancer there ever was, and kept tripping over Hermione's feet with flaming red ears. Hermione danced with others too – Dean, Seamus, Fred and George, and of course, Harry, and she found the Costume Ball to be a complete success.
After two hours, Hermione excused herself to go and keep watch on the Christmas Dance with Neville. Neville had come to the Ball with Susan Bones (one of the numerous fairies), and was dressed as a Navy Captain from the nineteenth century.
'Nice costume, Hermione,' Neville said, grinning.
'Thanks,' Hermione said, smiling. 'Yours isn't bad either,' she remarked.
Neville didn't even blush once or stutter, and Hermione marvelled at the change that had come over Neville since summer. Occasionally, he reverted to his clumsy forgetful mode, but that was become rarer and rarer, surfacing mostly in Potions, even though Snape never threatened him any more. He was quietly confident in their Prefect meetings, and Hermione had noticed him talking to Susan several times, and had a feeling something was going on there.
Their time at the Christmas Dance was pleasant, spent with four other prefects from other years. It was also amusing, watching the younger kids energetically bouncing around the entire time, dancing and eating, with the Muggle kids singing along with the songs while the wizarding-born students tried to emulate their dancing style and learn the words. Hermione, watching the younger kids, felt re-energised, and when her hour was up, returned back to the Costume Ball with lightened spirits.
After stopping at the bathroom on the way back, she stood at the side of the Hall searching for Ron or Harry. As she surveyed the Hall, she noticed yet again in the throng of colourful students, the disproportionate number of Princesses. It really annoyed her no end.
'Absolutely disgusting,' Hermione muttered, shaking her head to herself.
'What is?' a voice asked at her side. Hermione glanced over, to see the Phantom she had noticed earlier. His voice sounded familiar, and she struggled to place it, but she couldn't see enough of his face to find out. His eyes were a startlingly pale but bright blue.
'The fact that every single girl out there has decided to be a "little Princess",' Hermione said the phrase in a cloyingly sweet voice. 'Haven't they realised that it's a Costume Ball? Not a wear your ordinary dress-robes get up?'
The Phantom laughed. 'It seems you're one of the few who did,' he observed dryly. He turned to her speculatively. 'Now, would you like to dance?'
Hermione hesitated, thinking she should find Ron, but shrugged. She still had plenty of time to dance with Ron when she found him. In the meantime, she'd dance with this intriguingly costumed person. For some reason, she found him fascinating.
'Who are you?' Hermione asked after a few minutes of dancing. She almost had to shout for the live band was very loud, their music resonating in the Great Hall, and amplified with a simple charm.
'You don't know?' he asked, surprised, yet not surprised. His voice sounded very close to an all too recognisable smirk at that moment, and Hermione gasped.
'Malfoy?'
'Yours truly,' Draco said, grinning at her from under the mask.
'But your eyes!' Hermione said, peering at them closely. 'Where did you find an eye-colour changing charm? I spent ages looking for one to darken my eyes but failed in the end.'
'I chanced upon it,' Draco said. 'It wasn't exactly difficult.'
'Your look is very impressive,' Hermione said earnestly.
'Thank you,' Draco mock-bowed. 'You don't look half bad either,' he said. Hermione blinked. A compliment? 'I like your costume. Did you use my idea?'
Hermione nodded, smiling wryly. 'The character's from Notre-Dame de Paris, by Victor Hugo, a French Muggle author,' Hermione explained. 'La Esmeralda, a gypsy dancer. She was hated by the fourteenth-century Parisians, because she was a gypsy. The gypsies who were a reviled group back then.'
They continued dancing in silence in their small corner of the Hall after Hermione's explanation. Searching for something to say in the slight awkwardness that had followed, Hermione glanced over to the drinks table, and chuckled.
'Look,' she nodded her head.
Draco turned, and she caught a glimpse of a smile under the mask. 'Spiked drinks?'
'It seems so.'
Several of the students near the drinks table had suddenly begun dancing in a rather inappropriately provocative manner after sipping their drinks, one the boys even beginning to remove articles of clothing. Professor Snape, who had been standing at the side, noticed rather quickly though, and after giving the students some antidotes, turned around to find the culprits.
He frowned, searching for a particular mischief-making pair, but Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee were at the other end of the hall, dancing innocuously with their dates Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, although Hermione could swear she saw identical evil grins crack onto the twins' faces the moment Snape shifted his suspicious stare from them.
The fuss over, Draco looked pensively at Hermione, before speaking.
'I finished reading the book you gave me,' he said, glancing at her.
Hermione looked at him, surprised, wishing he didn't wear that mask, or mess around with his eyes, so that she could see his expression. 'That quickly?'
He shrugged nonchalantly. 'I spent the day in the library. I did need to look up a few things sometimes, like you predicted.'
'What did you think?' Hermione asked him tensely.
He opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment, Harry found her.
'Hermione! There you are. Ron's been searching all over for you,' Harry said, taking hold of her arm. He glanced over at Draco, and frowned, obviously not recognising him, then turned back to Hermione. 'How was the kiddies' Dance?' he asked, grinning.
Hermione trailed after Harry helplessly, her eyes following Draco who watched her go back to meet Ron, desperate to hear what Draco had to say about To Kill a Mockingbird, a tale of prejudice. She found Ron, who looked overjoyed at the sight of her, quickly enough and continued dancing. She sighed, pushing such serious thoughts of Draco and the book and issues of blood, and forced herself to continue having light-hearted fun and not worry and fret.
At eleven o'clock, the Ball ended, and everyone left the Costume Ball, not terribly reluctant. The party was to be continued in all the House Common Rooms of course, although they would be exclusively House oriented, which made those couples who weren't from the same House more averse to leave the Costume Ball.
However, by quarter past eleven, the Great Hall was cleared of everybody, except for the twenty-four Prefects, left to clean up the mess as quickly as possible so they could get back to the House parties.
Hermione, using her wand, was removing streamers from the ceiling, when Draco came up to her. His hair was still pure white, and his eyes that brightly pale icy blue, but he had removed his mask. He still looked a little freaky though – almost albino-like, considering his naturally pale complexion.
'Need help?' he offered.
Hermione turned and smiled at him. 'That'd be nice.'
They worked for a couple minutes, charming the streamers off the ceiling, when Hermione spoke. 'What did you think of To Kill a Mockingbird?' she asked him, voice as casual as she could make it.
'It's a very good book,' he said, also neutrally. He said nothing else, until Hermione turned to him. 'I know why you gave me that book,' he said, cutting the crap efficiently.
Hermione flushed, but nodded. 'And?'
He sighed. 'It's made me think a bit about things,' he said finally.
That was it, but it was enough to make Hermione smile happily. It was all she could do from breaking out into a triumphant yes! at the fact that she was accomplishing what was seemingly impossible, by starting changing Draco Malfoy's view of what was really a form of racism about blood purity.
They finished the clean up job within half an hour, and the prefects all headed back to their appropriate Common Rooms, with reminders to meet at the Christmas Dance venue at three o'clock the next day, to be followed by celebrations at the Three Broomsticks.
Hermione walked for a while with Draco as they took a common route. When the time came for them to part ways, for Hermione to go to the Gryffindor Common Room, and him to go to the Slytherin dungeons, they stopped, and looked at each other.
'You're wearing my necklace,' he commented, observing the silvery chain.
Hermione nodded, feeling oddly shy. 'I really like it,' she said, fingering the chain as he mentioned it.
They were silent for a while, before he spoke up. 'Thank you, for the Christmas gift, Hermione,' he said softly, before turning away to find his way to the Slytherin common room.
Hermione returned to her Common Room, a smile hovering about her face.
'Back finally!' Ron said, jumping up to meet her as he saw her enter. He grinned at her, albeit nervously.
'How's the party going?' Hermione asked, but she could see it looked fine. Everyone had changed into normal clothes, and loud music was blaring from a wizarding radio.
'It's great,' Ron said, enthusiastically. Hermione headed towards the stairs to take off her costume, but he stopped her, emboldened perhaps by the atmosphere of the room, or the slight alcoholic content of the butterbeers he had drunken that night. 'Er, Hermione, I was wondering if,' he stumbled, 'i-if you'd like to go to the Three Broomsticks on New Year's Eve together, like as, you know, a c-couple?'
On New Year's Eve there was a party at the Three Broomsticks, and many of the older Hogwarts students were planning to go. Dumbledore had indulgently given his permission to those students who were in fifth year and above although several of the teachers would be there too to keep an eye on them. It was the place to be on the 31st of December. There would be no drinking, of course, since none of them were over eighteen and would be in the presence of teachers, but nonetheless, it would still be fun.
Hermione looked at the red-faced, embarrassed, and apprehensive Ron, and nodded. 'That'd be nice,' she said.
He smiled then, and let her go. 'Be back soon,' he called after her.
'I will!' Hermione shouted back jubilantly, as she hurried to her dorm to change. As she changed, though, she found herself deliriously happy, but strangely over Draco's acceptance of the ideas in To Kill A Mockingbird, as opposed to Ron admitting to liking her, and wanting to be her boyfriend.
Author's note: And so the fun and fluff starts to die out a bit as we draw nearer to the climax of fifth year. For those who are really pedantic about sources etc., the quotes from Notre-Dame of Paris by Victor Hugo are taken from the Penguin Classics edition of 1978 translated from French by John Sturrock.
Thank you for the lovely reviews!!!! I'm becoming a review-addict, and it's probably very unhealthy, but too bad. :)
Lady Prongs – I wasn't originally going to have Fred & George do something at the Ball, but it would be very in character for them. So, as you read, they did spike the punch. Ron can be annoying, but he'll mature a bit, so you'll get used to him. Don't get too worried about his part in this plot.
Cinnamon – I know! I'm not too keen on fics where the leading couple, especially an unlikely pair like Draco and Hermione, fall head over heels suddenly, and then decide to completely crawl over each other non-stop. Have you read Their Room (see my favourites)? That's a fic that explores a growing relationship more naturally, if anything can be natural in the fanfic world.
xygrlnxtdoor – thanks!
Nikki - Hermione gets it. She just doesn't like it. And here's more.
