Author's Note: Well it's been a good six months at least since I started this story. I sort of went off fanfiction for awhile… it just wasn't holding my interest anymore. However I recently checked back at my account to find I was still getting reviews so I got back into it and I am glad I have. This story has proved to be the most popular (I have even received abusive e-mails for not continuing it) so I figured I'd have a go at writing more. Forgive me if this chapter is crap because it might take me awhile to get all the way into it again (I have forgotten my previous writing style).

Chapter Four... 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'

Hermione sank back into a canvas chair when she back in her little home. She smiled, thinking about the evening and wondering why she felt so happy.

"Hi Rorry," she muttered to her owl. "For the first time tonight, somebody spoke to me like I was a human... not just a worker or slave. It felt good..." she closed her eyes and let every word of the conversation play back in her mind.

She was slowly falling asleep when she heard a little beep-beep noise in the background. She cursed a few times, nearly tipped Rorry over trying to stand up, and went into the kitchen looking around frantically for her Pockerpager, a little black paging machine that they used around the newspaper offices a lot.

She finally found it sitting under the sink (?) and saw a little blinking message.

Granger, we just got wind of an excellent story. There is going to be a ball held not tomorrow but the next night and we need you to be there, nobody else is available. All of the rich, social elite of the wizarding world will be there - the rich, the wealthy, the famous- you get the jist. Unfortunately I have a dragon tour I have to take my son to so you're the only one left. Don't let us down, this is your big chance! -Albert

Hermione nearly screamed. How exciting! Her first REAL story! The Prophet were relying on her now, not any other reporter, just HER because they knew she had the talent to be a journalist and now, so did she. Hermione didn't waste another second, throwing the Pockerpager back down under the sink without thinking, she ran to her desk and immediately started making notes on what she knew so far. Oh this was going to be brilliant, she just knew it!

* * * * *

Albert was waiting for her the next morning and as she arrived in his office she couldn't help but let a little yawn slip.

"Tired already?" remarked Albert, baiting her. "How are you going to survive in the real world?"

He said 'real world' as if the only real world was the one he lived in. Hermione wanted to throttle him.

Instead, she smiled, sat down after making a great fuss about having to clear off some old books first and then faced him, ready to accept her task.

"Well this ball that's taking place is going to be in the London Society of Magically Pompous People's Royal Grand Hall, this Friday night. It will start at seven thirty and I require you to be there by seven so you can record the proceedings from the very earliest possible. Um... you have to look, uh presentable so none of those muggle tracksuit pants or anything. Make sure you do a good job on this Granger, I'm giving you a chance here and you can't stuff it up. Have 1000 words on my desk by Monday got it?"

"Got it," replied Hermione.

"Good, well now... shoo, out of my office. You're taking up far too much space."

Hermione didn't even bother getting herself worked up over his blatant rudeness. She simply gave him one last grin before disappearing off down the hall to clean up after another clumsy reporter who'd no doubt just spilt the coffee she'd made.

* * * * *

Friday came around quickly and soon it was time for the long awaited Ball. Hermione had made many plans as to what she was going to wear, what she was going to write and how she was going to go about the whole deal. By the time it was 4 o' clock in the afternoon Hermione had already set out her outfit over her bed, fed Rorry his dinner and put a bag together for herself full of spare quills, plenty of parchment, her pockerpager and a little bit of make-up for touch ups. She had had second thoughts about the make-up but she'd thrown it in away, because you could never be too sure.

Hermione sat at her desk for the next two hours doing practically nothing. She paced up and down her room for a little while, tried different hair styles after that (but that got boring) and eventually when she couldn't test her patience any further, she changed into her outfit for the evening.

It had been something she'd chosen on the very day she'd had the meeting with Albert. She'd gone from work straight into Madalina's, a nice little boutique in the same area as the Daily Prophet. As soon as she had entered the store she had been pounced on by shop staff each pulling her in different directions. After no less than three, long exhausting hours she finally found the perfect outfit. Hermione was pretty sure she had tried on everything in the shop.

She stood in the small, old mirror and examined herself. Not too shabby. She wore a simple long black dress with a high neckline and a daring back. On her feet were black heels that weren't too high because as she had learnt from experience, they hurt a lot after awhile.

Hermione quickly did her hair using some hair straightening cream and soon enough she looked as ready as she'd ever be. She wasn't even sure why she was making such a big deal out of her appearance. She highly doubted she'd know anybody there and even though at first she'd wondered whether the Nicholson's would be going but considering none of them had mentioned it during the week she assumed not. She decided not to talk about to them either because the last thing she wanted was for them to demand invitations.

At 6.50pm, Hermione looked around the house, checking everything was locked and in place, gave Rorry a bowl of fresh water and gave herself one last look in the mirror. She grabbed her black handbag that held a surprisingly large amount of stuff and stood in front of her fireplace.

With a handful of floo powder and a clearly spoken 'London Society of Magically Pompous People's Royal Grand Hall', she was off and on her way.

Hermione arrived a split second later and gave herself a quick dusting off before nervously making her way into the Grand Hall. She took a deep breath before acknowledging the doorman with a nod and let him open the door for her. As she stepped inside, she could feel her eyes widen to the size of small saucers and a big grin made it's mark on her face.

The Hall looked simply splendid! Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals tinkling in the warm yellow light. Tables were arranged with beautiful floral decorations wrapped around them and waiters were beginning to transport some of the cold food to them, ready for 7.30 when the ball would officially start.

There were only a handful of other people standing around. Some looked like other journalists judging from their parchments and quills.

She looked around nervously, not quite knowing what to do. Suddenly a short little man appeared at her side.

"Ello," he said shaking her hand. "I'm Perry Watermouth, chairperson of the London Society of Magically Pompous People. Who are you?"

"My name is Hermione Granger," Hermione replied. "I'm the reporter representing The Daily Prophet."

"Oh," he said, putting his nose in the air. "I thought you were someone important," he added before walking away, his neck stretched so far he began to look a little like a dwarf giraffe.

Hermione was a little startled by his reaction but then again she told herself, what could you expect from the chairperson of the London Society of Magically Pompous People?

She considered putting their conversation down on parchment but she figured she was meant to be writing about how good this ball was, not how lousy and rude it's guests were.

Finally after a very boring and pointless thirty minute wait, 7.30 came around on the big golden grandfather clock in the corner of the hall.

Hermione looked at the doors, almost expecting the guests to start pouring in, as did a few of the other reporters but sadly, no one arrived. It appeared they liked being 'fashionably late'.

Eventually, guests started filing in and Hermione found herself a nice little observation stand where she was able to see everyone who entered without getting in the way. She madly scribbled down names, clothing, partners and transport as the Hall quickly filled up with noise and chatter.

Towards one end of the hall an orchestra was playing and Hermione took a break to watch them after her hand felt like it would drop off from so much writing. She smiled as people began to dance and loosen up with the various 'happy' drinks being served in fancy glasses with incredibly delicate long stems.

She put away her parchment after awhile and decided to have a wander around, mingling with the guests. She was offered a drink and kindly accepted and continued to observe and listen in on as much conversation as possible.

"Hermione?" said a voice behind her.

Hermione spun around and was shocked to see Oliver Wood standing there smiling at her.

She was immediately taken back by his good looks, which were very obvious in the dress robes he was wearing. He looked very, very smart and very, very charming. His head was tilted slightly the left and there was a keen twinkle in his eye.

"Oliver!" Hermione cried with a grin.

"I didn't know you would be here!" he replied, walking over a bit closer.

"I know," Hermione said. "I didn't think I would either. I'm here for the Daily Prophet, it's my first real article. Didn't know you'd be here…"

"No, it was a last minute thing. Dad got an invitation this morning and being so up with the people he told us we had to come or he'd suffer immense punishment," Oliver imitated what must have been his father's voice.

Hermione laughed at his humorous side.

"So Daily Prophet huh? They finally realise what a legend they have with them?" he continued.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wish. Actually, they were low on staff. I was the only one who could make it."

"Oh well," Oliver said shrugging. "Everyone needs to make their way there somehow."

"You're right."

"So anyway, you look smashing!" Oliver told her, glancing down appreciatively.

Hermione could feel her cheeks burning up. "Why uh, thank you. You look amazing too," she said quickly.

Oliver chuckled. "Yeah right…"

"No seriously," Hermione said quietly.

There was brief awkward silence until Oliver spoke again. "I'd offer to dance however I don't like to dance."

His comment made Hermione giggle. "No, I know what you mean. I'm a terrible dancer."

"Can I offer you a drink then?" he asked.

Hermione held up the glass in her hand.

"Right," he said, turning pink for not noticing. "You already have one…"

The conversation progressed well from there and they made themselves comfortable near one of the walls, just talking. Hermione was very relieved to be in such a lovely presence. She felt good talking to Oliver about anything, they could have been talking about dog bones and she would still have thought it wonderful.

"Oliver!" interrupted a rude voice.

Hermione glanced to her left and to her disgust she found herself staring at Annabella. She was wearing a long light blue dress made of silk. Her blonde hair was put in perfect waves and on her face was so much make-up Hermione was surprised she could still recognise her. Obviously Annabella hadn't recognised Hermione yet but then again her eyes were only on Oliver.

"Annabella, hi," Oliver said, briefly taking his eyes off Hermione to look at her.

"Do you want to dance?" Annabella asked, completely ignoring Hermione.

"Actually no, I…" Oliver trailed off. "I was about to dance with this young lady actually." He glanced at Hermione and his eyes only read 'Please, help me.'

"Yes that's right," Hermione interrupted, catching on.

Annabella stared at Hermione in shock. "Hermione Granger?" she screeched. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," was all Hermione told her. "Are we going to dance?" she asked Oliver, letting him take her arm.

"Sorry Annabella," Oliver said, pushing past her but not sounding the slightest bit sorry at all.

Author's Note: I was going to keep going but I realised that would make for an incredibly long chapter. As it is, I am up to 7 pages in Word just for this one. Anyway, hope you're enjoying it as much as you enjoyed the first three chapters. Make sure you let me know what you think!