Ron lay on his stomach in his four-poster bed, writing in his pink My Secret Diary as a storm raged outside. Though regrettably covered in glittery Hippogryphs, he had found by bitter experience that it was the only diary that had a Fred- and George-proof lock.
"Dear diary," he began.
You should have seen her beat up Malfoy. She was magnificent! Like an avenging angel. And now everybody knows what I know – she's one hell of a girl. Even Harry admitted he was impressed. Since then there's been people coming up to our table at meals to congratulate her, and I've even spotted her giving a couple of autographs. Plus, the Slytherins are totally disgusted with Malfoy – they're barely speaking to him.
You know, I can't say I've ever felt quite like this about anyone before. Now that I've met Doris I know the way I felt about Fleur Delacour was just a passing thing, a child's fancy. And the love that dares not speak its name... well, I've put that on the back burner for the time being. No, this is the real thing. I just don't know how to tell her. One thing's for sure, though, I have to do it. Can't let your first true love slip through your fingers.
The diary, which was enchanted to respond to phrases like "first true love", spat a shower of pink and silver glitter into Ron's face. He slammed it shut hastily, shoved it under his pillow, and went to wash his face.
As Harry came through the portrait hole after an enlightening game of wizarding Foozball with Ernie MacMillan (Ernie had won, but Harry felt sure he could take him at the rematch), an odd scene met his eyes. The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with people – unusually so even for a sociable Friday evening. The crowd was predominantly female, and more people seemed to be arriving every minute. Doris Sue Ethel was sitting perched on a chair in the centre of the room, with Lavender Brown holding up swatches of cloth next to her face. An entire chemist's shop's worth of cosmetics was piled on a table within easy reach, and the Patil twins were sorting through and fussing over a large pile of donated robes. The onlookers all seemed to be paging through fashion magazines or arguing about the comparative merits of hair straighteners versus curling tongs.
"What's going on?" Harry asked Ron, who had come downstairs straight from the bathroom and was rubbing his hair dry with a towel.
"Apparently they're giving her a makeover," said Ron, whose face was a little pinker than could be attributed to its recent scrubbing. "Seems like there's a lot of interest, too." A loud banging was heard from outside the portrait hole, and when Harry answered it he was very surprised to find Cho Chang and Pansy Parkinson outside.
"What are you doing here?" he said in astonishment.
"We're here to help out," said Cho coolly. She carried a large flowery makeup bag, while Pansy was laden with various frilly robes and a set of eyelash curlers that looked like medieval instruments of torture.
"Yes – but what's she doing here?" Harry couldn't remember ever having seen a Slytherin inside the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Is it so hard to believe that I might just want to do something nice for somebody?" asked Pansy, glaring. Cho pushed past him and went inside, Pansy following with a disdainful sniff. Harry saw Lavender greet them cordially.
Hermione came down the spiral staircase and forced her way through the crowd to hand Parvati a jar. "Here's that Sleekeazy stuff you wanted," she said. "I'd definitely recommend it, although I've heard good things about the new Lockhart range of hair potions too."
As Parvati examined the label critically, Hermione noticed that Doris's sleeves were rolled up and her tattoo was clearly visible. "Well, I think we'll probably go for the plummy coloured lipstick, Doris," Lavender began, but was interrupted by Dean Thomas.
"Plum? She's obviously a Winter, Lavender! What she needs is... hmm, more of a pomegranate sort of colour." As he turned over the pile of makeup and tutted, Hermione edged in for a closer look.
"Interesting tattoo," remarked Padma, following Hermione's gaze. "What is it – three Quidditch balls?"
"Dunno," grunted Doris, trying not to move as Pansy carefully applied electric blue eyeliner. "Don't remember where it came from – owww!"
The answer hit Hermione as Pansy accidentally poked Doris in the eye. All of a sudden, she knew where she had seen that tattoo before. Grabbing her cloak from the hat stand, she said "Gotta go," to Ron and Harry who were standing by the portrait hole, and hopped out.
"Where's she off to in such a hurry?" said Harry bemusedly. He was starting to feel very much out of his depth, with all this girl stuff going on around him.
"Oh, I don't know," said Ron, "the library, maybe?"
But Hermione had far more interesting places to be than the library.