Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be out making other people feel bad. (Just kidding—the making people feel bad part. I really don't own Harry Potter.)
A/N: Thanks, as per usual, for reviewing—virtual cookies to you all. Charlie's Angels! HA! That's where the perfect girl line is from, so cookie to me too. Oh, and sorry this took so long, it's been crazy at my house.
Announcements and Singing Teapots
Harry was a very confused boy.
Almost a man, really, but still utterly confused. The party had just cleared out, and he was currently sitting on the couch in front of the fire, simply thinking. He had been noticing lately that Hermione was acting very…strange. This also usually whenever the subject of Malfoy came up. Very strange indeed.
"Maybe there is something going on between them?" Harry though. But, just as quickly, he threw out the idea as ridiculous and continued. "Well maybe she's still upset because Ron dumped her. The prat. I'd kick his arse if he wasn't my best friend." He was so deep within his musings that he didn't see Ginny come down from the girl's staircase. It was only when she came over to get a book from the coffee table in front of him that he even acknowledged her presence.
"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny asked with slight concern in her voice. After all, the raven-haired boy had his face all scrunched up as if in deep thought. Well, he was, but she didn't know that—thus her concern.
"Hmm?" he said absentmindedly. "Oh, yes. I'm fine, thanks for asking."
"Okay, then. Well I'm just going to head up to bed now. Goodnight, Harry."
"'Night, Ginny," he replied after her retreating form.
And that was another thing: Ginny. Harry really had no idea how he felt about her. One part of him wanted to take things to the next level and become her boyfriend, but the other part was hesitant. Harry really didn't want any more people he cared about being hurt by Voldemort. Sirius had already died…what if that was Ginny? Or Hermione? Or Ron? The sixteen-year old just really couldn't handle this thought.
Voldemort. The day that he would have to face the Dark Lord grew nearer with every passing day. Harry knew he would have to ultimately be the one to face him, but that didn't make it any easier. All of his friends were in danger just being around him. "I won't let him take them from me," Harry promised himself. "I won't."
So these were the thoughts spinning their way behind Harry's emerald eyes. Hermione acting like she didn't mind Malfoy. Ron being a stupid prat he is. Ginny being so goddamn nice to him, even though he knew nothing could ever develop. Voldemort ruining his life and being the evil, twisted thing that everyone knew him as. And of course, there was always the tell-tale question of where milk came from.
Harry was a very confused boy.
8.8.8.8
On Monday morning, Hermione woke up with something that could be called a headache to the average person, but to the prefect it would be more accurately labeled "rampaging elephants running on her brain." Okay, so maybe this was overdoing it a bit, but if it were you, you'd say the same thing. As Hermione lay there, thinking about trying not to think, Lavender came bounding in with her usual cheeriness.
"Wake up sunshine!" she said in a sing-song voice as she jumped on the pseudo-dying brunette's bed. "Dumbledore is making some sort of announcement today and I want to get down to breakfast!"
"Ugh…ger if mek, Lavnderr," came the muffled voice of Hermione, owing to the fact that she was sick—and of course because Lavender was smothering her.
"What?" Lavender asked as she got off of the bed.
"I said, get off me, Lavender," Hermione replied as she pulled the covers tighter around her. "And I'm sick today so go away."
"Sick? With what?" she asked as she felt the prefect's head. "You don't have a fever."
"I have a headache, thank you very much," Hermione retorted. "And I would very much like it if you would just leave."
"A headache? Well that can be fixed," Lavender pointed her wand at Hermione's head and muttered a healing spell. "There, better now?"
Hermione did indeed feel better, but she didn't want to admit it. "Why hadn't I thought of that?" she wondered. Finally, she nodded her head and proceeded to get out of bed. "What is Dumbledore supposed to be announcing?" she said as she pulled on her school robes and pulled her hair up into a knot.
"No one knows," Lavender replied. "But I do hope it involves shopping for something!" After this statement, she flitted out of the room and down the stairs, no doubt heading to the Great Hall.
"Shopping!" Hermione muttered to herself in a sarcastic voice. "Fun, fun." Grumbling, she too made her way out into the common room. There she met Harry, who was oddly devoid of Ron.
"Hey," he said with a smile. "I was waiting for you before I went down to breakfast. Ron has already gone down."
"Thanks, Harry," Hermione voiced, returning the smile and choosing to ignore the fact that he had mentioned that particular Weasley to her. "I hear Dumbledore is supposed to make some sort of announcement. What do you think it could be about?"
"I dunno," Harry said as they made their way out of the portrait hole and to the Great Hall. "I hope it's nothing bad though."
"Me too."
8.8.8.8
"Ladies and gentlemen, could I have your attention, please?" Dumbledore's booming voice said as soon as everyone had finished their eggs, bacon, muffins and overall yummy goodness. "As some of you may have heard, I do have an announcement for you, and I do hope you all will be as excited for this as I am." At this, everyone leaned forward or bounced in obvious anticipation. "So without further ado, I am happy to say that we have planned a Christmas Masquerade!" Many girls squealed in delight at this, but none louder that Lavender.
"Ooh! Hermione I told you it would have something to do with shopping!" she squealed as Dumbledore started to speak again.
"Now, even though it is a Masquerade, masks really aren't required. Costumes are highly encouraged, but dress robes will be fine for those who do not wish to participate. The ball is open to fourth years and above. I have also arranged for a Hogsmeade visit to happen next Saturday. Enjoy everyone!" he said finally as he sat back down. A buzz went up through the Hall as everyone made their way to lessons, primarily about the ball and secondarily about the Hogsmeade visit. There was also a bit of yesterday's Quidditch match thrown in among the guys.
"Ugh," Hermione said for the second time that morning. "A ball? I hate those…" she thought as she made her way to lessons. "Although, the last one was rather fun. But who will I go with? What will I go as?" The brunette proceeded to think these things for the better part of the morning and was only broken out of her semi-reverie when she got to the day's Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.
8.8.8.8
"Alright, everyone, settle down," Nymphadora Tonks said as all the Slytherins and Gryffindors sat down at their desks. "Today we will be learning about Veiling Spells. They are closely related to the Disillusionment Charm, but highly more effective for when you are in the field. Who can tell me why?"
Hermione was paying close attention now, because she had read all about these spells in Modern Defense Techniques and Theories for a bit of light reading over the summer. She raised her hand to Tonks' question and then answered. "They are very useful, especially to Aurors since they did a lot of field work, because they not only veil you but also any area around you that you specify. They are untraceable and undetectable, even to the most advanced radar."
"Very good, Miss Granger, ten points to Gryffindor," Tonks said as she moved on. "So today we will be practicing the spell in partners. You will have to be able to successfully veil you, your partner, and a desk. Choose your partners now."
Harry and Ron partnered up. "Who would have guessed?" Hermione said bitterly under her breath. She looked around quickly for another partner. Lavender and Parvati had gotten together, which took away both of Hermione's other prospects. Dean and Seamus had gotten together, which left Hermione with no other choice but Neville. He walked up to her.
"Hullo, Hermione. D'you want to be partners?" he asked as he fidgeted with his wand.
Hermione put on a smile and said, "Sure, Neville. Let's get this desk." They moved over to the last spare desk and then waited for further instructions from Professor Tonks.
"Okay," Nymphadora said once everyone found a partner. "Now the incantation is fairly simple, but the wand movement might be a bit tricky for some of you," here she looked pointedly at Neville. "The movement is similar to the 'swish and flick' of levitation, but more of a 'swish and jab.' Now everyone try this with me." They continued to practice the swish and jab technique for the next few minutes. As suspected, Neville did have trouble, especially with the jabbing part. He had successfully managed to poke himself in the eye, though. Thankfully for him, and for all mankind, he got his jabs under control and was able to make the movement.
"Now that everyone has got that down, let's move on to the actual spell. The spell is in two parts. First, you must take your wand and draw an imaginary circle around the place you want to veil. Second, you do the 'swish and jab' while saying Velamen. Does everyone have that?" After several nods of assent, Tonks moved on. "To unveil yourself and your area, say Leva velamen. Now get with your partner and we'll spend the rest of class period working on this."
Hermione turned towards Neville and asked, "Would you like me to go first?" He looked thoroughly grateful and nodded. The prefect closed her eyes and took a moment to get her bearings. When she opened them, Neville was looking apprehensive. "Relax," she told him. "I know what I'm doing." Then she drew a circle around the desk, Neville and herself. With that finished she closed her eyes and clearly said, "Velamen" while moving her wand in the right motion. After this she opened her eyes, but wasn't sure if it had worked. But then she realized that people were looking right past her and Neville. "Of course," she muttered. "We can see them, but they can't see us. Leva velamen." With this they reappeared and Tonks clapped and said, "Very good, Miss Granger. Take another ten points for Gryffindor!"
The rest of the class was slightly miffed by Hermione getting it on her first try. The only other person to achieve this was Draco Malfoy. In the end, most everyone had successfully done it, though some people were given extra homework—including Neville, Crabbe, Goyle, Harry and Ron. Neville kept getting scared and always ended up poking himself with his wand. Crabbe and Goyle were just too stupid to remember the incantations, but no one really expected much more from them anyway. Harry and Ron simply couldn't get everything veiled. Harry could veil him and Ron, but not the desk. Ron simply couldn't achieve anything in its entirety—there were always little bits (an arm, a leg) that wouldn't be veiled completely. Nevertheless, Hermione thought it was a wonderful lesson, and most people had to agree.
When the bell rang, Hermione hung back to talk to Professor Tonks about advanced Veiling Spells and how she had read that they could, in theory, be used to veil whole countries. They continued discussing this for about ten minutes before Hermione decided that she had better get down to lunch before Harry and Ginny started to worry about her. She was, however, detained further by a person that waited for her outside the classroom.
"Hermione," Draco said as she walked out.
"Get away from me, Malfoy," she said, choosing not to play his game and use his real name. "I thought I told you I could handle this alone." She started to walk away, but Draco grabbed her arm.
"Wait," he said, and much to his surprise, she did. "Look, I know my father threatened you and told you to stay away from me, but you don't have to worry about him. He knows that I don't let people do all the work for me, and I'm not about to let you finish this project on your own. I can assure you that I am just as attached to Betty as you are. So what about a meeting tomorrow night at seven in the Charms room?"
Hermione regarded him from behind narrowed eyes, and wondered if she could really trust him. "How do you I know you're not just trying to lure me into some kind of trap?" she said.
"Well," Draco replied. "I thought that regaining your trust—or some semblance of what we had before—wouldn't be easy." He took a deep breath and then continued. "So, I am fully prepared to do whatever you ask of me to get that trust thing back." Then after a moment he added, "Even if it is totally humiliating."
The brunette thought about this for a minute before a slow smile came onto her face. "Anything?" she asked, wicked glint in her chocolate brown eyes.
"Anything." Malfoy responded.
"Seven tomorrow it is then," Hermione replied. "And don't be late." She started to walk away, already formulating a plan, when Draco stopped her.
"I just hope that maybe you'll go easy on me?" he said, the words coming out as more of a question than a statement.
Hermione simply looked at him and then in a condescending tone said, "Mr. Malfoy, what do you take me for? An amateur?" Smirking, she sauntered off without a backward glance.
8.8.8.8
That night Hermione worked furiously. Well, not really furiously because she was only making one thing, but being crafty was one thing that Hermione Granger did not excel at, so she had to work with a bit more fervor than such a thing would usually require.
"Yes!" she said aloud when she finally finished. Everyone else in her dorm had gone to bed but she stayed up to complete the aforementioned secret something. See, she had done all of this to make Malfoy pay. Not pay with money, oh no, pay with almost certain humiliation, on his part.
Hermione had contemplated publicly humiliating dear Draco, but then decided against it. No, what she had planned would only serve to amuse her, and everyone else would just think it a bit odd. Besides, she planned to take away the one thing that Draco held dearest to his heart: dignity.
"Yes," the brunette said again. "Revenge shall be sweet." With this she gave a wicked little cackle, and promptly started choking on a bit of yarn that had been floating about.
8.8.8.8
The next Draco awoke bright and early—much to his dismay, of course. The fact was that he couldn't sleep, not when he knew that Hermione would somehow humiliate him at seven. He didn't know how, but it was still pretty frickin scary nonetheless.
"Just don't let me die," he said to no one in particular. Draco pulled himself out of bed and went to take a shower, remembering of course to take his rubber ducky with him. "What would I do without you, little buddy?" he whispered to it. The ducky just sat in all its yellowness and smiled benignly. Draco sighed and he commenced with his showering ways.
When he had finished, Draco solemnly made his way down to the Great Hall. As he wound his way from the dungeons through the corridors, he reached out and touched certain landmarks—the stone gargoyle that reminded him of Satan, various torch brackets (all of which giving him a lovely burn) and the rough-hewn stones of the walls. In fact, if anyone were to see the grey-eyed Slytherin, they would think that he was a person facing imminent death. "You'll never look the same to me," he sighed as he finally reached the towering wooden doors. Stepping in, he said, "Good-bye, old friends."
Draco sat down at his usual place between Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table. He looked down at his plate of bacon, eggs and little sausage links. "My last meal," he thought as he dug in. (Technically, he still had both lunch and dinner, but he obviously was not thinking quite clearly.) He savored each bite, wondering what will become of him. "Well, maybe I am overreacting just a bit." At this moment, he looked up at the Gryffindor table. Hermione caught his eye and gave him an insolent smirk. He gulped and looked away. "Then again…"
8.8.8.8
Hermione giggled to herself as she watched Draco throughout the day. He had a glazed look in his eyes and was moving much slower than his Seeker reflexes should ever allow. "I bet he thinks I'm leading him to his death," she thought with a smirk. "Then again, I suppose I am leading him to a death of sorts." Again she laughed as she took notes in class. She could barely wait until the meeting tonight, as it would finally be a time when she could get the infamous Draco Malfoy back for the six years of hell he put her through.
That night at dinner, Hermione watched Draco carefully. He was pale—well, paler than usual—and he was barely touching his food. "He really is overreacting," she muttered, more out loud than she had intended.
"What was that?" Harry said through a mouthful mashed potatoes. Hermione looked up, stunned, and then had to think of something quick.
"Oh, I just said that the snow should be good for packing," she replied as she gestured to the late November sky. It was milk-white and obviously laden with a promising snowfall.
"Yea, it should be great!" Ron interjected from beside Harry. Hermione, who still refused to speak to him, leaned around Harry and looked at him. Ron gave her a small smile, as if he didn't know whether or not it was allowed. To both their surprises, Hermione smiled back.
"I really should forget my silly grudge," she thought to herself as she passed a bowl of corn to Lavender. "Everyone makes mistakes after all." From this moment on, Ron and Hermione had an unspoken agreement not to mention Allison anymore and that they wouldn't let another person come between their friendship.
When the plates and tables were cleared, Hermione excused herself and strode over to the Slytherin table. She was met with many Death Glares, but she was entirely unfazed by them. She found Draco and leaned in close to his ear. "Seven o' clock, Draco. That's in one hour. Don't be late." With this, the brunette tossed her hair and headed out of the Great Hall, feeling thoroughly pleased with herself. "He won't know what hit him."
8.8.8.8
At six forty-five, Hermione left the common room with Betty and a nondescript brown bag in tow. Of course, the item in the brown bag wasn't so nondescript, but only Hermione knew this tidbit of information. She giggled to herself yet again, which really was abnormal for her, considering that she most never showed such girly displays of emotion. After making a mental note to research giggling tendencies among female teens, she sauntered into the Charms classroom where she found Draco Malfoy sitting in a chair, looking decidedly nervous.
"Hello, Malfoy," she said in icy tones. "It's always a pleasure."
Draco managed to squeak out a "Hi" before retreating to his state of, well, reserve. Hermione, as per usual, took the initiative.
"Right, so Betty is doing pretty well, though you can tell that she is about to give birth," she started; gesturing to the kneazle that lay snuggled up in her arms. "I figured today we could just take some more measurements and stats, and then monitor any behavior that might indicate her preparing for the babies."
Draco seemed to snap to attention at this, probably because his humiliation would be postponed. "Sounds good to me," he said as he moved closer to Hermione. "Here, I'll take her." He picked Betty out of the prefect's arms and was immediately hit by how heavy she was, but didn't show any outward emotion about it. They went to work and passed most of the time in a semi-comfortable silence. Draco kept stealing suspicious glances at the paper bag. Hermione kept stealing glances at Draco stealing glances at the bag, which made her feel quite smug indeed.
At the end of the hour, the two sixteen-year-olds had three rolls of parchment filled with precise notes and a very content kneazle. "Well," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "I suppose I've had Betty for long enough, and it's only fair that you get a chance to take her…so here." She put the almost asleep creature in a box and handed it to Draco. "Remember to follow the diet, and if anything happens, owl me right away."
Draco nodded and took the box. "Now," she continued. "It is time for your almost certain humiliation." Malfoy blanched, but nodded again anyway. He would take this like a man. Hermione went over to the brown paper bag and picked it up. She opened the bag and pulled out a hot pink tea cozy that she had knitted. She handed it to Malfoy and said, "Put it on."
Draco stared at it, then at her, looking positively horrified. "Go on," she urged. "Put it on." Taking a deep breath, the Slytherin King, put the hot pink tea cozy on his perfectly slicked back head. Blushing just a bit, he looked up and stared at Hermione. She was barely containing herself. "Okay, now I want you to sing 'I'm a Little Teapot' with the motions and everything."
The blonde boy started to retort, but decided it was simply better just to do it. Of course he knew the Little Teapot song, seeing as his mother made him learn it when he was a child (against his father's wishes) in order for him to develop his "self-identity." He shuddered at the memory and then slowly started singing. "I'm a little teapot, short and stout; here is my handle," here, Draco put his hand on his hip—an unmistakable handle. "Here is my spout. (An outstretch of the other arm did the trick.) When I get all steamed up hear me shout 'tip me over and pour me out!'" To finish it off, he tipped himself to the side, as if pouring out tea, and then bowed.
Hermione, needless to say, was positively howling with laughter. This only served to make Draco even more embarrassed. After a few moments, she started to sniff at the air, as if she caught a whiff of something. Draco was thoroughly disturbed, but didn't say anything as he was still wearing the tea cozy and was very much so embarrassed. Finally, she spoke. "Wait…what's that I smell? Oh, yes. It's the collapse of Draco Malfoy's world. Well done, Draco. Well done." With this, she strode out of the classroom, leaving a stunned Malfoy in her wake.
"Well, at least it wasn't public," Draco sighed as he took of the hat. He picked up Betty and walked out after Hermione. What he didn't know was that the brunette had secretly recorded him singing, and could use it for blackmail at any time she wanted.
A/N: Okay, okay. I know what you're thinking…maybe. Yes, I realize dances and whatnot are so overdone, but plot device people. Plot device. Be sure to review!
