Author's Note: After careful thought,I present to you the next and final chapter, sweet sixteen. I hope everyone enjoyed this fic, and the final ending it had. Review if you wish, and I thank all my supporters immensely. I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it.
Hermione entered the ball, her hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. The sea foam dress washed against her curves, the color complimenting her complexion. She walked in awkwardly, without a date. Though the rest of the school seemed to know who she was, Harry and Ron didn't consider this strange prefect for a date. It was better that way, without the complications.
Immediately she swept up in the music when another prefect asked her to dance, possibly out of pity. She obliged, knowing she couldn't escape. Duty came first.
"Harry." Ron whispered, staring at Hermione. "Go ask her to dance." Though both vaguely recognized the beautiful girl, neither could place who she was.
Harry blushed, and didn't see the sadness on Ginny's face. She sank into a chair, and watched the rest of the school waltz around the floor.
"Would you like to dance?" Hermione found herself in her former best friend's arms in an awkward waltz. Up at the head table, Severus downed his coffee and headed for the door. Duty was one thing, but his sanity was another. He could not watch Potter dance with her. It was torture.
Over Harry's shoulder, Hermione saw Ginny, watching them.
"I think someone is waiting for you." He turned, astonished to find Ginny. She let him go, and glanced around.
"Leaving so early?" Snape turned, and for the first time, saw her for who she was. Hermione stood in the light green gown, her eyes twinkling at his speechlessness.
"Fancy a dance?" He led her around the hall in a smooth waltz, and noted out of the corner of his eye that Potter and a red head he recognized as the Weasley girl headed out to the terrace. So Potter had found someone after all. Turning back to her, he caught the apprehensive expression on her face.
"Hermione?"
"Look up." She replied, as the music slowed and she stepped closer.
He closed the distance, and finally they were one, as their lips met for the first time.
Up in the bewitched sky mistletoe twinkled.