A/N: I've been in such a writing mood lately…I don't own anything. Please review!

The Entrance Hall was extremely crowded on the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Bodies were packed together tightly and the gentle hum of excited chatter filled the chill air. The prefects had announced not two days previously that there was to be a winter ball on December 21st, the date of the Winter Solstice. Notices had been posted in every common room and it appeared to be the only thing anyone would talk about. Excitement had returned to the school and the once melancholy air that had permeated the walls of Hogwarts for the past two years was gone, if only momentarily.

At present Hermione stood, pressed firmly against a wall, waiting for the crowd to dissipate. Next to her were Harry, Ron and Ginny, also against the stone wall. They stood in silence, conversation proving fruitless in the din, and each tried their best to remain patient through the wait. After a moment or so the crowd began to move and soon the small group was walking down the sloping lawn towards the small village. Cold air nipped at their exposed fingers and noses and Hermione felt her limbs beginning to grow stiff in the chill October air. A light breeze passed over them and tossed the fallen leaves about their feet, and the laughter and chatter of students rang through her ears.

"Let's go to Zonko's, I've heard they have some new stuff," said Ron, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Don't you want to get anything for the ball?" asked Ginny.

"Who says I'm going?" asked Ron.

"Hermione, let's go look at dress robes. We'll let the boys play with their toys," said Ginny, shaking her head at her brother.

Ron glared, earning a giggle from Hermione as Ginny led her away. The pair wove in and out of the teeming streets, stumbling over the cobblestone road, Ginny anxiously trying to get to her chosen destination. The red head's enthusiasm for the ball seemed to be contagious as a broad grin overtook Hermione's face and she happily allowed Ginny to lead her into a robe shop. Upon entering, Ginny walked to the back of the store, leaving Hermione to browse through the shop filled with robes of all sizes and colours and for any occasion imaginable.

"Need any help, dear?" asked the elderly shop owner.

Hermione turned to her and smiled, "No, I'm alright,"

"If you need anything, just ask," she said, brushing a stray piece of grey hair behind her ear.

Hermione ran her hand through a rack of silk robes, the fabric soft beneath her rosy fingertips. She really had no intention of purchasing a robe on this particular trip, but Ginny didn't care about her intentions. As she neared the back of the shop Hermione was thrust into a changing stall and numerous robes were thrown over the top of the stall door. Hermione looked at them, utterly confused.

"You'll love these Hermione. Try them," said Ginny from behind the door.

"I'm not sure Gin," said Hermione, taking a rather shocking pink robe into her arms.

"Trust me," said Ginny.

Hermione slowly undressed and pulled on the robe, its feathered collar sticking to her lips and getting into her mouth. After a moment, wherein Hermione was sure she would never purchase this robe even if she was paid to, she stepped out of the stall and into the small hall. Ginny rose from her chair and walked over to her, smoothing out the velvet fabric.

"Isn't it lovely?" asked Ginny, smiling at her and taking a step back.

"Ginny, I don't think this is me," said Hermione.

"Oh don't be silly," said Ginny. "Now try the next one."

Hermione returned to the stall and pulled on the next robe, adjusting the clingy emerald fabric about her torso. She stepped out, received more poking, prodding and exclamations of just how beautiful she looked, and retreated back into the stall. This continued for quite some time, Ginny leaving and returning with armfuls of dress robes for Hermione to try. The third time new robes were thrust above the door; Hermione found she had had enough. She did not want to purchase any one of the robes she had tried on. None met her taste and she didn't think any one of them were flattering to her, anyway. However, during the entire process, Hermione thought back on how she had looked without the glamour. She thought of how she would look in dress robes had the unbecoming glamour been removed; ebony locks trailing down her back…silken robes with pale skin shinning beneath the soft fabric.

"Gin, I want to pick the next one, please," said Hermione, pleading at the redhead with her eyes.

"Oh alright," Ginny sighed, crossing her arms and sitting back down in the chair.

Hermione smiled and walked off, still dressed in the previous robe. She stalked among the numerous rows, occasionally pulling out any robe that struck her fancy. As she meandered about, a single robe caught her eye. It had been shoved carelessly back onto the rack, devoid of hanger, and was almost to the ground. Carefully, feeling the chiffon beneath her fingertips, she lifted it from its loose prison and carried it back to the stall. Without a word she shut the door, tossed the previous robe to the side, slipping on the one she carried.

Smiling, Hermione stepped out of the stall, earning a small gasp from Ginny. The robe fell to the floor, dragging behind her in a long train. Thin straps adorned her shoulders and a looped pattern was woven into the bust. It hugged her body in a way she never thought possible for a girl of such a plain stature and the blood red fabric cast a pale hue to her skin. "It's beautiful," said Ginny in awe.

"You think so?" asked Hermione happily, twirling about, wide grin adorning her lips.

"It is. You should defiantly get it," said Ginny, nodding affirmatively.

Hermione ran her hands over the dress, searching for the price. Hidden amongst the folds of fabric, Hermione spied the white tag, pulling it, as well as part of the dress, closer to her face. "It's so expensive Gin," Hermione said with a frown.

"Hermione, it's perfect for you. I'm sure you'll get more than one wear out of it anyway. Just organize another ball," said Ginny with a smile.

As she stared at the tag, Hermione began an internal debate. Of all the things she could spend her money on, her parent's money for that matter; she wanted to use it on a beautiful but horribly expensive dress robe. Despite what Ginny said, she probably wouldn't get much wear out of it after the ball. After all, in a sense Terry Boot had been right; it was their NEWT year and they needed all the time they could get to study.

"Oh come on Hermione, just buy it," said Ginny.

"I'm not sure."

"Just do it. You'll look beautiful, have the time of your life at the ball, and have a bright spot in the whole war. Get it," said Ginny.

"All right, I'll get it," said Hermione, dropping the price tag from her fingers and returning to the stall to change.

Hermione and Ginny exited the shop, both slightly poorer, yet much happier. Ginny had outgrown her dress robes from the previous ball and had bought a lovely periwinkle robe. Despite the price, it was two sizes too big, and she planned to fix it was a few charms her mother had taught her. As they walked the cobbled streets, Hermione found they were heading in the general direction of the Three Broomsticks. The pair entered the warm and inviting pub and took seats at a small table near the bar. Ginny left her things with Hermione and went to get drinks from the rather long line at the bar. Hermione sat, drumming her fingers on the table top, gazing at her shoes with a rather tired expression on her face. As she sat there, mind in no particular avenue, she heard the scrape of a chair and looked up to see someone seated in Ginny's vacant seat.

"Um, excuse me, that seat is taken," said Hermione to the girl in front of her.

The girl turned towards her, "Is it? I'm sorry. I just needed to sit down, it's so crowded in here," she said.

"I know. If you want, you can stay here until my friend gets back," said Hermione, smiling to her.

The girl nodded and turned in her seat, facing Hermione straight on. The girl pushed a piece of hair away from her face, hair that was so deep an auburn that it was almost black. Black eyes shone with happiness, eyes that had Hermione been looking closer would have resembled that of her uncle. She smiled at her, and the girl extended her well-manicured hand across the table.

"I'm Constance Green," she said, shaking Hermione's hand, "You're Hermione Granger right? The Head Girl?"

"Yes, that's right. Aren't you one of the prefects?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, for Slytherin. I'm the one who yelled during our last meeting," she said a little sheepishly.

"Thanks, by the way. It was a real help," said Hermione, smiling.

"No problem. Next time you want me to silence a room full of arguing prefects, just tell me," Constance offered.

They continued to talk, passing the time until Ginny returned from the seemingly endless line. During that time Hermione learned a few things about her Slytherin companion. She was from a wealthy family, had an elder brother, had few friends in Slytherin due to her fraternizing with other houses and was very apt in Transfiguration. She had good grades which earned her the position of prefect in sixth year and unlike most from her house did not enjoy the taunting and belittling of others. Hermione liked her company, took pleasure in talking to her about classes and what they planned to study after Hogwarts. Despite not having spoken to her prior to this moment, Hermione openly shared things with her; glad to have found another female friend.

"Arithmancy isn't really that difficult once you get past the basics," said Hermione.

"I know, but I was never good with numbers. When I first took it I thought I understood it, but once we moved into charts and graphs and even more complex formulas I just couldn't do it," Constance explained.

"Formulas are my favorite part of the course," said Hermione excitedly, "I love being able to take an equation and expand on it; or simplify, as the case may be."

"Well, I just never understood it. I've moved on to Muggle Studies,"

"How do you like it?"

"It's alright I guess. I've never really interacted with muggles, being a pureblood and all, but they are quite interesting. They have so many things that wizards just haven't been bothered to use, like television. Wouldn't it be a faster way of getting news instead of always having to wait for the Prophet?"

"It would, but wizards just haven't advanced that far, which is quite a shame. There are so many things we could do with muggle technology, perhaps even advance it further, if we only overcame this giant superiority complex,"

"You're right. We do seem to be crippling ourselves by considering ourselves higher than muggles. We have so much to offer each other, but because most are too high-and-mighty, it seems we will always be separate from each other."

"My friends thought I was a little mad, taking Muggle Studies and being a muggleborn, but I wanted to see the wizarding perspective on things that I was so used to. I've seen muggle devices and technologies as being perfectly normal, and it was the wizarding world that really enthralled me, but once I became more used to it, I found that I wanted to see the same enthrallment with the muggle world," said Hermione, excitedly.

"I think that's pretty interesting; taking different perspectives on two worlds," Constance remarked, smiling.

"At least someone does," Hermione mumbled with a slight frown.

"Hey, my brother can never understand why I take that class; insisting that anything we needed to know about the muggle world we learnt from our tutors,"

"Tutors?" asked Hermione with curiosity.

"Most wizarding families have their children schooled with tutors before Hogwarts. We learn etiquette, reading, writing, arithmetic, music, language and a little about the muggle world incase we are ever caught there unawares."

"I always wondered what wizards did before starting Hogwarts, in terms of education,"

"Well, I know that some half-bloods go to Muggle School, mostly on their muggle parent's insistence. Muggleborns go to Muggle School, obviously, and purebloods have private tutors," Constance explained. "Everyone in my family has been tutored: my brother and I, before we came to Hogwarts, as well as my cousins. My little cousin Elizabeth, who is only eight, is still being tutored regularly."

"What else is there?" Hermione asked, somewhat enthralled.

"Well, there's music: mostly piano, voice and violin. Equestrian, falconry and polo for sport, as most don't favor muggle sports much. Dancing, proper etiquette, and a bit of geography and history," said Constance.

As Hermione listened, she was struck with a sudden realization. Her mother, who from what she had been told was quite wealthy and well-off, had obviously been taught all of what Constance was currently listing. As such, it only made sense for Annelise to pass this on to her children in absence of a wizarding tutor. Hermione had taken piano and voice lessons, though she was certainly not a champion in voice. She had ridden horses every weekend, had taken numerous dance classes and been reprimanded on her sometimes poor manners. Without Hermione knowing it, she had been schooled like any pureblood witch.

"Hey, Hermione, could you grab these drinks from me before I spill them?" asked the voice of Ginny from next to Constance.

Hermione took the two filled mugs of butterbeer, placing them on the table. Ginny flexed her sore fingers and smiled at her friend, coming to look at her occupied seat.

"I'm sorry; Hermione was just letting me sit here for a while. Here," said Constance, rising from the chair and offering it to Ginny.

"Oh, thanks," said Ginny, sitting down.

"I'll see you later then Hermione," said Constance.

"Oh. Alright. Bye," said Hermione raising a hand in farewell.

Hermione watched as Constance walked off, returning to the group she had left some time ago. She sipped her drink, feeling that familiar warmth spread through her with every sip. Once she could no longer see Constance through the crowd, Hermione turned back to a curious Ginny, who was eyeing her with a raised eyebrow.

"Who was that?"

"Constance Green. She's a Slytherin prefect from our year," Hermione said, taking another sip.

"Slytherin?" Ginny commented warily.

"Now Ginny, she's really very nice. We had a nice talk,"

Ginny sighed, taking a sip of butterbeer, "Alright, if you say so. Though it's not often you see a nice Slytherin."

Hermione nodded, setting down her mug. As she did so, the door to the pub flew open in a flurry of wind and fallen leaves. Robes wrapped tightly around them and walking swiftly towards their table were Harry and Ron. Their faces were red with cold and they were furiously rubbing their hands together in an attempt to warm them. When they reached the table, they quickly found two other chairs and joined Ginny and Hermione.

"Merlin, its cold out," remarked Ron, blowing onto his hands.

"How was Zonko's?" asked Ginny, taking a sip from her glass mug.

"It was great," said Ron, suddenly spying the warm drink in his sister's hand. "Where'd you get that?"

"Honestly Ron, at the bar," said Ginny.

"Can you get me one?" he asked, smiling widely.

"Have you seen the size of that line? Everyone at Hogwarts seems to be in it. If you want one, you can go stand in it. I'm not going back," said Ginny, taking a long swig of her butterbeer.

Ron began to grumble, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath, before getting up and moving to stand in the extremely long line. Whilst he stood impatiently, the remaining three took up the conversation once again, both girls listening half-heartedly as Harry told them the newest inventions in Zonko's.

During Harry's tale, which became even more elaborate once Ron returned from the bar, Hermione found her eyes wandering around the crowded pub; glancing at every face that passed through her line of vision. A few teachers sat in a far-off corner of the pub, chatting and sipping their drinks with wide grins on their faces. A group of students from Slytherin, Constance among them, were sitting at two tables pushed together playing a large game of Exploding Snap. More students from other houses were squeezed into every corner of the pub, butterbeer slicked the floor and the occasional chill wind blew in from the door. Whilst everyone else was mingling, laughing with their friends and reveling in the warm atmosphere, a quartet of Slytherins sat at a small table off to the side. Crabbe and Goyle, both large, hulking boys, were laughing stupidly, butterbeer dripping down their chins. A dark-haired boy named Blaise Zabini quietly read a leather-bound book, and sitting next to him, eyes meeting Hermione's own, was Draco Malfoy. Draco looked horribly bored, sitting there with no one to talk to. His arms were crossed and a look of utter disgust for two of his companions was upon his face. He was dressed, as always, in his school uniform, and his grey eyes were hard set.

Despite her best efforts, Hermione couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from the steely-eyed Slytherin. Their eyes bore into one another, trying to silently pass a conversation between them without attracting attention. After moments of this motionless staring, Draco nodded his head in the direction of Crabbe and Goyle, who were currently laughing so hard, butterbeer was shooting out of their noses, and rolled his eyes. Hermione giggled, covering her hand with her mouth and taking a glance at her friends from the corner of her eye. With as little movement as she could manage, Hermione pointed to Harry and Ron, feigning a yawn as she did so. Draco smirked and quirked an eyebrow, receiving a glare from Hermione at his sarcastic insinuation. After a moment Draco lowered his brow and leaned back in his chair, cocking his head to one side. Hermione, smiling to herself, did the same, following every motion he made afterwards.

Their pantomime continued for some time until Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning her gaze from Draco, she looked at her three friends who were eyeing her curiously.

"What are you looking at Hermione?" asked Harry, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, it's nothing really," Hermione stammered, feeling her face begin to heat, "It's nothing at all."

With one last, slightly regretful look, she turned her attention back to her friends. Shaking her head to relieve herself of the blush she had so suddenly grown. She listened to them talk, occasionally putting in a comment or two, but soon found herself unable to be interested in something other than her silent conversation with Draco.

x

The Common room was warm when she returned, lit by the crackling fire. Hermione felt it heat her chilled skin which was rosy and stiff from the cold. They had remained in Hogsmeade for some time, returning to the school before dinner was served. She had parted from her friends shortly after dinner, heading first to the library to check out a book. She had been welcomed warmly by the Founders in the portrait and was currently curled up on a sofa covered in a warm throw. Her book was on her lap and she was slowly reading through it, feeling sleep beginning to grasp her. As evening pressed on, the moon, now high outside her window, cast its silvery light across the floor. Suddenly she heard the sound of the portrait hole opening and turned in her seat to watch as Draco calmly walked through.

"You're back quite late," Hermione commented, watching him as he stretched languidly.

He said nothing to her, a rather wide yawn being her only response. Hermione huffed in annoyance, knowing that their pseudo-conversation had been completely forgotten by her partner.

"You could say 'hello' you know," she said.

Draco once again ignored her, walking up the steps to his room, pulling off his outer robe as he did so. With a sigh Hermione tried once again to get his attention, not bothering to wonder why she did so, "Malfoy, do you have to be so rude? You could at least acknowledge me," she huffed.

Draco paused on the stairs, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. He had a rather blank look on his face, but in his eyes… Hermione saw a swirl of emotion that she couldn't quite name. He seemed bored, irritated and thoroughly uncaring, but there was also something else… like yearning, uncertainty and worry. She didn't know how long she gazed into his overcast eyes, but she was soon aware of his raised eyebrow and found her previous fascination gone.

"See something you like Granger?" asked Draco with a smirk.

Hermione's brow furrowed and her eyes set in a glare, "No, just a piece of pond scum," she said.

"How flattering Granger. You're opinion of me gets better as the days pass," replied Draco, voice dripping with sarcasm and a false smile on his lips.

"It's not hard to have an opinion of you as low as mine is. It comes naturally," she sneered.

Draco once again raised an eyebrow, "Touchy, touchy Granger. Do you kiss the Weasel with that mouth?" he said, clucking his tongue.

"Do you kiss Parkinson with yours?" asked Hermione.

"Not with a ten foot pole," Draco shuddered, continuing up the stairs.

"Must you always have the last word?" asked Hermione, marching to the bottom of the stairs.

"Always," he sneered.

"It must be a gift then," she said.

"What?"

"Your ability to be an infuriating, loathsome, immature git. Why, haven't you noticed?" Hermione called up the flight, feeling triumph at hand.

Draco slowly descended the stairs; arms crossed, "Actually Granger, it takes years of hard work and dedication to be even half the man I am."

"Oh really?" Hermione said, "Well then, I guess you'll never get those wasted years back."

"Unlike some, I have a bit of refinement, and that doesn't come easily. But, you wouldn't know about that would you? Raised by muggles and all. I'm surprised you don't act like the insect you are."

By now Draco was extremely close to her, his breath wafting directly into her face. Hermione could smell his musky cologne, and as he leaned forward, invading every bit of her personal space, Hermione had the fleeting thought that he might try to kiss her. However, his words had made her red-faced with anger and it took all her control not to hex him where he stood.

"Do try and work on that, will you?" asked Draco, raising a hand to flick the tip of her nose with his index finger. "Tah, Granger."

As he sauntered back up the stairs to his room, Hermione hoped against hope that he would trip and fall on his stuck-up ass.

A/N: Once again, we end on a fight. I've really got to stop doing that huh? Anyway, I hope you like it. It went a bit slow, but I promise it will pick up in the next few chapters. Also, I have NOT abandoned this fic. I am just very slow and have very little time on my hands. Also, a small case of writers block. I can't help it, it's my senior year, and I'm going nuts on extra stuff. Sorry. Please stick with this fic, it will be finished.

Thank you to my beta Zvezdana.

Thank you's:

Megan- as you can see, the only development in the Draco department happens to be anger-fueled. Thank you!

paprika90- you'll just have to wait and see! Thanks!

anonymous- thanks!

Dracoluver2009- thanks!

Zvezdana- you get more thanks than anyone. My grammar is awful, I must say.

DansihGirl- thanks!

unchartedfate- thanks! What does your penname stand for?

the police are coming- I'm sorry, I'm very slow. I have not abandoned this fic!

lylangelgurl- thanks! I am not abandoning this fic.

slyswn28- what?