[edit 241003] The revised chapters of 1, 2 are essentially the same but scenes have been added and fixed so the characters are a bit more in character. Same premise - just a different plotline/outcome. Chapter 3 is a completely new chapter because the storyline has been edited. Original first three chapters are available in an entry of my fic journal. [/edit 241003]
One main storyline, four sub-plots. Slash undertones but you'd be surprised that there is no slash - although, the idea does sound tempting enough.
If you were with this story since the original, I suggest you read it over again lest you risk yourself to confusion.
Midsummer Nights
overture
... you're not very graceful in the bedroom, Harry.
The bronze sun of summer emerged from behind the distant hills, sliding up the skies of cotton-blue at a dilatory speed, its golden fingers treading the lush grounds of Hogwarts. A warm, early morning breeze tickled the bottle-green leaves of the trees and soon wafted its merry way through the open windows of the school. It was an introduction of what was to come: another long, torturous afternoon of scorching heat for some and a blessing in disguise for others. Overall, it would just be another pleasant weekend and unfortunately hot and sticky.
Suddenly, in the midst of the sun's ritual - the coming of dawn - a thick scent of sweet maple syrup and fresh strawberries dipped in a blanket of dewdrops seemed to engulf the entire castle, awakening its sleeping inhabitants.
Thus was the start of a lazy and invigorating morning.
Bloody Merlin. I wouldn't be surprised if this was the heat wave of the century.
Ron, sleepy as he was, groaned as he rolled off the bed in an awkward flourish and a dull thump, the blankets getting tangled between his limbs. He weakly propped himself on his elbows and peered over his bed at the other sleeping youths who were now blinking their eyes rapidly, adjusting their sight to the glorious sunlight that seeped in through the windows and groaning under such heat so early in the morning.
Seamus ignored Ron's morning complaint and dragged himself off his bed and stretched his long, sinewy limbs before absently scratching at his bare chest and stumbling into the bathroom. The other male Gryffindors stared at his retreating back in annoyance. They never said he could take the shower first. Then again, they didn't bother to argue for they knew they would have done the same thing had their body reflexes adjusted as quickly.
Harry sat up and plucked his black-rimmed glasses from his bedside table and put them on. He brushed his blankets aside and yawned. Merlin, was he sleepy. He would have opted for extra sleep had humidity not been an extra factor for discomfort. He quickly disposed of his flannel pajamas and fumbled around for his school slacks. He clumsily stepped into it and suddenly tilted to the side, falling on his bed.
For someone so agile during battles you're not very graceful in the bedroom, Harry. Ron observed lightly. The others snickered as they followed suit and jumped into their school uniforms.
Harry gave the red-head a mock glare before continuing his escapade into his pants.
Seamus suddenly stepped out, a grin on his fair-skinned face. His hair was wet and hanging over his eyes, his bare chest slick with remnants of liquid droplets that slid down his bare stomach and onto the fluffy material that was wrapped snugly around his waist.
That was refreshing. He scrunched his nose, sniffing out the room. Maybe you guys should take a shower too.
It was only a second too late when he realised the many pillows flying in his direction.
Hermione allowed a tired sigh to escape her lips as she fell back against the comfortable chair, draped in black silk. She had awoken early to escape any morning exchanges she would have with Draco Malfoy. After all, they both had been appointed Head Boy and Girl and as such, they shared the same tower - not necessarily the same dormitory - but tower all the same. So she had seeked refuge in her favourite room in all of Hogwarts - the library.
The mahogany tables were bare and the traces of burnt out candles lay forgotten on the tables. The portraits were stirring about, talking in soft whispers. Hermione simply ignored these daily wonders, reveling in the sultry air that wafted inside in invisible, nimble fingers. She closed her eyes and pictured what-could-be skilled fingers coolly wrapping around her limbs and caressing her face and teasing her hair. She felt her shoulders slacken as she fell prey to the plush chair beneath her, relaxing against the soft silk that brushed against her bare legs and arms.
When the strong aroma of a late morning breakfast suddenly filtered through the library, Hermione immediately sat up, grabbed her Hogwarts: A History and dashed off to the Great Hall.
chapter i
... the man she had chosen wasn't him.
Hermione made a face as she hopelessly stared at the four tables in the Great Hall. Most of the students had already fancied themselves a great day under the sun, some were following suit, and the others were in the process of deciding what to do with themselves for the start of their weekend. She, on the other hand, had yet to do those things. She hadn't even fed her stomach yet. Grouchy because she had missed her friends and of the alarming increase in temperature, she inched slowly towards the Gryffindor table and plopped down, thankful for the plate of morning pastries and ice-cold glass of water.
Hermione blinked and looked up from her plate and into the faces of Parvati and Lavender, the two gossiping girls joined at the hip. She smiled cordially and greeted them with a half-hearted good morning' and settled for a small strawberry to chew on. The toast could wait.
So, Hermione, Parvati began, excitedly, will you be attending tonight's festivities?
The honey-haired witch furrowed her brows. What could possibly be so eventful that was taking place that night? The Yule Ball was not for another couple of months, the Hogsmeade was not for another few weeks - what was she talking about?
Lavender shook her head, her sun-streaked tendrils bobbing with the movement of her face. Her dark-haired friend looked over and shared the same expression of despondency.
The soiree in celebration of autumn eve takes place tonight. Lavender explained, calmly.
Oh. Right. Now, why had she not known of it? Oh yes. She had more important things to think about than some dance. Besides, what was the point of going when she didn't have a costume to wear when the whole point of the dance was to wear a costume? That, and she didn't have a date but that was a whole different dilemma ...
When she hadn't answered, Lavender cast her a suspicious look.
You do know what the autumn eve is right?
Who is Hermione Granger again?' she thought sourly. Yes. It happens every year.
Lavender waved her hand, dismissing the honey-haired witch's dull reply.
I know you know that. Do you know what it celebrates?
Of course I do. There's a legend that follows it. I just lost track of time - the days do go by quickly, you know.
Parvati looked at her pointedly. You could sound a little more excited about it, then. Everyone's talking about it, Hermione! But maybe because you can dance with whomever you like without being noticed - ooh, I'd like to steal a dance with that Malfoy character ...
Lavender paled.
Don't even think about it. No matter how devious or harmless your intentions are - dancing with that bugger, I mean - you're risking the Gryffindor name.
Not to mention you're to remove your masks at the stroke of midnight. Hermione added with a nod.
So you do know! Parvati accused. Wait, you mentioned a legend. There's a legend?
Hermione refrained from pounding her already throbbing head against the tabletop. The two girls were smart but sometimes ... they just, well, lacked or at other times were a tad bit slow. Still smart all the same, of course. They were fellow Gryffindors and allowing such insults to go without remorse was shameful.
Yes, Parvati, there's a legend.
She noted silently that the fair-haired witch remained silent. Despite that, however, her eyes twinkled merrily, anticipating the story that was about to fall from Hermione's lips.
According to the myths, the faery princess of autumn fell in love with a prince. However, her forebearers were quite adamant in seeing the truth in that. She paused. Have you two ever heard of the muggle theory that if two people are meant for each other, you can blindfold one and they can detect their soulmate in a throng of people?
Parvati gave a snort of disbelief.
That's rubbish!
This is why the muggles call it a theory.
Hopeless. Simply hopeless.
Well, in this case, the King and Queen held a gala in the princess's honour - a masquerade at that. The faery court and citizens were allowed to use any mask so long as no part of their faces could be seen sans eyes. The faeries believed that if you were truly in love with someone, your eyes would be able to convey that love. In the princess's case, with only her heart to guide her, she searched for her true love', so to speak, searching for eyes that rivaled the brightest of sapphires.
She refrained from giggling - it wasn't her to giggle, of all things - when she saw Lavender and Parvati simply starry-eyed, eyes glazed over in a sweet haze. They were anticipating, eager for their Gryffindor familiar to continue on with what seemed like an ordinary fairy tale when in fact, Hermione mused blithely, that it was quite a fairy tale's polar opposite.
In reality, it takes experience to know what love really is and the princess hadn't fully matured yet in that area. In her small quest to find the prince, she ended up with two masked men - one with vibrant cerulean eyes filled with dull adoration and the other with passionate, albeit drab, blues that spoke volumes of silent devotion. To make a long story short, she chose the former. When time came to unmask, the man she had chosen wasn't him.
Lavender suddenly looked dismal - as well as her emotional friend - and swiped at her eye, muttering about something - a piece of dust or some other - stuck there.
The princess was an idiot. Parvati pouted. Honestly! It was quite obvious that the second man was her lover.
If you were in her position, would you be able to tell? In all honesty, would you pick the one whose eyes were dull in colour or blazing?
Well, I'd choose the one who had vibrancy obviously-
Then you just proved my point.
Disappointed at her insignificant failure she prodded Hermione, So is there more?
Maybe she should just disappear to the library or find Harry and Ron ...
Hermione nodded. Or maybe not.'
She was heartbroken when it was revealed he wasn't the one. The real prince returned to his home and married another princess. Due to unrelenting heartache, she fell ill and died. Many say that she watches from the Heavens above, guiding maidens to their soulmates to prevent any more heartache for she knew what it felt like. These autumn festivities are in honour of her story. This is why we wear masks with eyeholes.
That is awful sweet.
So, will you be attending?
Definitely hopeless.
Hermione stood up and popped the rest of the strawberry in her mouth. She shook her head and smiled apologetically.
Sorry. I might be busy tonight-
You're always busy, though. Lavender interrupted.
-and I wouldn't have a costume to wear.
Lavender arched a slim brow and looked at her fellow Gryffindor as if she had grown two heads, which seemed natural, really, considering her comment had just made it all the more outlandish.
Who do you think we are, Hermione?
Lavender and Parvati ...
Oh why was Fate so unkind to her?
Pansy delicately applied a new coat of dark green - almost black - nailpolish to accompany her exquisite deep-emerald dress made of fine velvet embedded with beaded pearls and camouflaging sequins. When she was done, she moved towards one of the full-length mirrors that garnished the Slytherin common room and twirled around with grace. It was funny the way she looked even more beautiful without the usual sneer on her face.
Suddenly, the portrait to the Slytherin house opened. Pansy quickly reached for her wand and summoned a spell, her dress and polish melting away, leaving her in her usual array of black robes and cotton skirt.
In stepped the Slytherin prince with a casual elegance, a glorious trait passed on generation to generation in the Malfoy family, a gift that belonged to one of a pureblood and son to a Death Eater. Draco Malfoy stood at the door, his face neutral, with his hair slicked back, several strands of moonlocks spilling across his brow. He had elegant arches of matching brows, sharp and defined cheekbones, and pools of silver moonwater that faded to a dull grey on occasion and glittered with arrogance and pride. He had grown quite tall, standing at an amazing six-one. His shoulders were broad, his muscles were sinewy - it was the body of a true athlete, a dedicated Quidditch player - a Seeker if you wanted to be specific. Draco Malfoy was handsome, beautiful even. Girls of many ages were pining for him and it wasn't a surprise that some male students at Hogwarts were quite smitten with the pureblood. One in particular.
He walked down the steps and into the large common room, robes billowing behind him, finally settling down on a black couch that seemed made specially for him as it fitted to his tall and sleek frame. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, before averting his eyes to the female Slytherin, who was standing no more than six feet away with a curious glint in her eyes, as she stared down her male counterpart.
So? Have you decided on going? Pansy finally asked, breaking the blanketing silence.
A sneer came on his face and disappeared just as fast as it had come on. With arrogance as hard as steel still made obvious in his voice, he replied, Blaise managed to con me into going. I have no choice but to go.
Blaise. It was always about Blaise, wasn't it? Goodness. Those two were joined at the hip! They were just as bad as those insufferable, loud-mouthed Gryffindors, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.
I see. She replied, her tone short and clipped.
He then produced a custom-made mask, shining jade dragons ingrained on the mask of smooth ivory. Black vine-shaped wisps encircled the dragons as if engulfed in shadows of flames. He brought it to his face for a moment before bringing it back down and resting it on his lap. Courtesy of the man himself - said I might scare off first-years without it. I could have hexed that bloke to a bloody oblivion for that comment if not for his ... talents.
She had always wondered what those two boys did on their spare time. Now that he implied it, she wasn't sure if she really wanted to hear it. After all, it was she who was supposed to be on the receiving line of Draco's affections or lack thereof - attention, mostly.
Of course.
Shame you didn't want to come. Blaise said you weren't interested in such functions, although I don't blame you. He said, flippantly.
Did he now?
Draco nodded and yawned.
I'll be asleep for a few hours. Don't wake me.
Pansy watched the prince take long strides into his side of the tower and disappear along the winding staircase. She frowned and looked at her wand. Well. Who said she couldn't go? Besides Blaise, anyway. She humphed. Why was it impossible for Blaise to get along with her? Hell, why wasn't Blaise attracted to her? Because he and Draco Malfoy shared a personal something, that's why. Still, she didn't understand. She was Pansy Parkinson, after all, who was betrothed to Draco Malfoy since birth. Well ... not betrothed per se, but the parents of both families were practically expecting it. She was more uncertain about Draco's parents; hers were all fine and dandy with the idea that Pansy was even considering marriage.
Considering purebloods only sealed their fates with the exchange of material things to maintain the purity of their breed, so to speak, and not sealing said fates because of something more. But that didn't mean she was in love with Draco Malfoy. The handsome youth was simply impossible to deal with, even if he was the most prime among the younger and older witches. No. Love was not possible in any circumstances. Lust, perhaps, but never love.
With that beared in mind, Pansy reached out for her wand, muttered an incantation, and soon found herself in a white dress, accompanied with an identical mask that of Draco's except hers was rather simple in comparison, what with the black and green feathers protruding from the sides of the mask and the jade stones that were fastened to the smooth ivory, sparkling delightfully.
Pansy Parkinson would attend the blasted autumn eve celebration.
All for a prince who would never deem her worthy enough.
Who is that?
Lavender sighed in exasperation. Once a bookworm, always a bookworm, but a sweet bookworm nonetheless.
For the thousandth time, Hermione, that would be you. Don't be so shocked; you look just as sweet and pretty as you did back in our fourth year, remember? Or have you forgotten already?
It wasn't that she didn't believe that she could be at least a little pretty - the operative word being little - but she always thought she was just plain. And that didn't matter to her. In fact, surprisingly, she enjoyed being plain. She wasn't interested in looks, although she could identify beauty in a heartbeat. She was, however, interested in intellect, someone who could keep a conversation for hours and still keep her intrigue.
So it was a definite surprise when she looked as pretty as she did at the moment. Well maybe not that pretty but pretty all the same.
Somehow (and she had no idea when they had convinced her), Lavender and Parvati managed to dress her up like their own personal doll. Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders (which was bound to become a bit unkempt by morning), decorated with several braided strands and honey-coloured curls. A crown of periwinkle starflowers were pinned to her hair, its fragrance of fruit and freesia strong and sweet. Her dress was modest enough (to this she had approved): it was a white ensemble, with sleeves that swept out elegantly at the elbows, and it was lengthened out to her knees in pellucid layers, tiny diamonds embedded onto the material. A pair of white sandals completed her costume.
Now for some muggle-wear them muggles call
Parvati stared at her friend, curiously. Why use make-up' when we have these lovely things called wands?
Hermione scowled. She knew exactly what make-up' was, and she never particularly fancied the stupid muggle invention.
I never agreed to make-up.
Lavender rolled her eyes and started for Hermione. In her hand was a tiny, circular container having a glittery substance. She popped open the lid and dipped her pinky finger in it.
Close your eyes. She commanded.
Did you not hear me?
No, no. I said it's what muggles call make-up', but I didn't actually intend to use their product. I made this myself and tested it. It looks awfully pretty. Unicorn hair, moonstones, faery dust (I think that faery is still a bit miffed at me for borrowing' some, though) and other necessities. Trust me on this, Hermione. It'll look great. Smashing, even!
Skeptical and wary, she allowed the Gryffindor to apply whatever it was she had created. Opening her eyes, Hermione faced her reflection. No longer did it reflect back Hermione Granger but a maiden in a virginal-white dress, face covered in glimmering spangles of silver and earthy pastel green.
She had yet to find out why, but suddenly she had the urge to go back into her black robes, despite the sweltering heat, and retreat back into the most dim-lit part of the library. Maybe she was just uncomfortable in this different skin.
Don't forget this. Parvati gushed, holding out a matching mask.
Hermione reached for it with hesitance before holding it in her hands. She glanced back up at the mirror and sighed.
Instinct told her the night wouldn't end well.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
end chapter i, 241003
Well, there's the new chapter 1 (three pages longer than the original. Yay!). And 2. Chapter 3 has been scrapped due to the slight change of storyline and revised as a new chapter. And some notes:
1. There were no overtures in the original version - they have no significance either.
2. Draco and Pansy were originally written to go as partners. For those of you who have read the original version, you'll notice some dramatic changes in the second chapter.
3. If you hadn't caught on, there's one main storyline but four sub-plots. These four sub-plots are in reference to Draco, Hermione, boy!Blaise, and Pansy.
4. You'll note I've added more depth in Pansy's character to enhance and complicate the storyline; therefore, prolonging the fic as a whole.
5. You'll notice some slash undertones; surprisingly, there is no slash. Huh. How does that work, I wonder. :)